


Fuck Me Like You Hate Me

by DaniJayNel



Series: FMLYHM [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Bullying, Depression, Domestic Violence, Drinking, Drugs, F/F, Physical Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Suicide mention, Violent Sex, aggressive sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 08:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: Ymir is considered an aggressive delinquent, hardly at school and always in some form of beaten up. Her rotten attitude doesn't help the rumours either. What people don't know is that at home, her father severely abuses her.Historia Reiss is beautiful and popular and everything everyone wants. She doesn't care about anyone in her life, except for maybe making Ymir's life difficult.When Ymir shows up at school beaten up again, Historia goes too far in her taunting and she ignites a fire in them both that'll lead them to the school bathroom and each other's lips. They start a violent, fiery physical relationship that both rips open old wounds and creates new ones. They're completely unhealthy for each other, and of course they don't care for each other at all.But what if they do? And what if it turns into more?





	1. Soft breath, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear I want to fucking tear you apart

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING FOR GRAPHIC CONTENT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you've been following me on tumblr then you'll have already been horny af for this fic. If not, then welcome, here is my newest fic. Before you read, though, I must warn you that this is the darkest, most angsty thing I've ever written. Please take note of the tags. Please be careful while reading. Enjoy.
> 
> (chapter title inspired by the song Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge)
> 
> (Fic title inspired by FMLYHM - Seether)

“Oh wow, the reject is actually here today,” Hitch muttered under her breath.

Historia tore her eyes away from her phone to stare down the hallway, and sure enough, there was the school delinquent slinking her way towards class.

“Why does she even try?” Mina asked, sounding both astounded and amused. “Are those sunglasses?”

Hitch chortled. “She probably thinks it makes her look like a big hot butch.” She laughed loudly and swished her hair back. “Makes her look like a poser.”

Historia locked her phone and slipped it into her bra. “Let’s not waste our breath on someone not worth it,” she told them. “Class is about to start.”

Hitch and Mina stared forward quite obviously, gave each other a look and then giggled like children. Dirty black boots scuffed to a stop right in front of them. They were hanging beside the door, ready for class, so the confrontation was inevitable.

“I heard Mr Smith is still looking for some prostitutes to fuck,” she growled at them. “Why’re you hanging here instead?”

Hitch sucked in an offended breath, but Historia shoved her aside to intervene before she got them into trouble by swearing loudly—again.

“Is that the absolute best insult you could come up with, Ymir?”

Ymir stood so fucking tall, it infuriated Historia. She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best to look much bigger than she was, but she still had to tilt her head slightly to stare up into Ymir’s face. Ymir seemed to notice, because she grinned smugly and then bent her knees until they were level. Historia’s chest started to heat with fury.

“Aw, did the widdle baby learn how to walk and talk so quickly?”

Historia didn’t waver or show the fury on her face. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Ymir. Everyone in this school thought you’d died in a ditch somewhere.”

Ymir straightened suddenly and laughed. “You fucking wish.” Her eyes were covered by the glasses, so Historia couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “I’m surprised you’re not 6 months pregnant yet.”

Historia grinned. “Jealous I get more than you?”

Ymir’s expression seemed to sour, from what Historia could see of it. Knowing she had hit a nerve made Historia’s pulse race. “I’m not jealous of running the extreme risk of getting chlamydia, no.”

Mina openly snorted, but Hitch seemed more incensed by the insult than even Historia was. She surged forward and snatched the glasses from Ymir’s face, surprising them all—Ymir the most.

“Stop talking shit, you dumb bitch.”

Quicker than any of them realized, Ymir had Hitch by the neck. “Give my fucking glasses back,” Ymir growled into her face. She wasn’t looking at her though, but staring down at the ground. Her hair fell over her face, hiding it.

“Apologize to Historia first, dickwad.”

“Fuck you. Give them back or I’ll choke you.”

“You know I’d just like that,” Hitch purred. “Aren’t you into that, Ymir? Don’t you like beating your girls?”

Historia curiously watched the way Ymir’s body tensed and the way she flinched. She was acting stranger than usual. Yeah, they swapped insults every now and again, but rarely did she engage so much with them. Ymir usually thought herself too good to even speak to them. Whenever she did attend school, she just sat in the back and fiddled with her phone or doodled and then she bunked a few classes until it was time to go home. Historia knew this, because she watched her sometimes.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ymir responded. She sounded dangerously close to snapping.

Historia was about to step forward and give the fucking glasses back, but then Ymir sighed, straightened and shoved Hitch against the wall—hard. Historia stared openly at Ymir’s revealed face. A big, ugly bruise ran the length of her eye to her cheekbone. It didn’t look too fresh, a couple days old at most, but it was most certainly ugly. When Hitch saw it, she sneered.

“Did some guy finally deck you for leering at his girlfriend?”

Ymir narrowed her eyes. “Keep the fucking glasses then.” She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and then made to head into class. Historia stopped her with an arm.

“Wait,” Historia said. She reached out to Hitch for the glasses, who handed them over with a huff.

Ymir didn’t look expectant. She suddenly didn’t look anything at all. She stared down at Historia, her brown eyes impossibly intense. Historia offered the glasses to Ymir, but Ymir hesitated to take them. When she finally did reach for them, Historia opened her hand and let the glasses fall to the floor. They both looked down as it clattered to the ground, and then Historia brought her foot down on it. She heard Ymir inhale sharply.

“Oops,” Historia told her. She didn’t grin smugly, only stared curiously at her battered face, to see what sort of reaction she would get.

Ymir’s jaw muscles bunched up tightly and her fists clenched into whitened fists. Her nostrils flared wildly and her chest heaved with a breath, and then just like that she released all the tension in her body and Historia watched the second Ymir decided to let it go.

“Whatever,” Ymir muttered, roughly shoved passed her and then headed into class.

Hitch and Mina were staring at her, brows lifted. “You cold bitch,” Hitch laughed.

“Idiot deserved it,” Mina added, giving the shattered glasses another stomp for emphasis.

“This is lame,” Historia sighed, running a hand through her long blonde hair. “Let’s go inside before Mr Ackerman gets here.”

The final bell rang then, and they hurried to their seats. Just as they sat down Mr Ackerman strode into class, looking unimpressed and depressed, as always.

“Who the fuck littered by my door?” he asked once he reached his desk. He dropped a stack of papers on his desk, slapping them so loudly that some timid students flinched. “This isn’t a fucking zoo, and even though you all like to act like it, you’re not savages.”

Hitch raised her hand. “It was Ymir, sir. She dropped her glasses and then someone stepped on them by accident.”

Mr Ackerman sent Ymir a deadly glare. “Nice to finally see you attend school, Ymir. Go clean up that mess before I give you three extra assignments.”

The class all turned to look at Ymir. Her bruised face was on full display, immediately causing hushed whispers. By day end, there would be a plethora of nasty and scandalous rumours of how she’d gotten her face banged up like that. Historia wondered if she should make up a story of her own, too. She watched Ymir wordlessly get up and clean the broken plastic by the door. Mr Ackerman stood right behind her, staring down with his bored, empty eyes. He pointed out a few missed pieces, then finally let her return to class after throwing the destroyed glasses away. When she dropped back down into her seat, she looked like she would punch the first person to breathe in her direction.

Historia wondered why Ymir hadn’t ratted them out. Mr Ackerman knew what bitches they were—everyone did, actually. If she had told them that Historia had been the one to step on them, on purpose, he would have asked to see them after class to discuss the issue and apologize. Instead, Ymir pulled her books out and started drawing in her textbook.

Historia curled a lock of hair around her finger too many times, then tugged. She stared over her shoulder at Ymir, fascinated by the bruise over her eye. Ymir noticed her staring and glanced up, and their eyes met for a brief moment.

“Reiss, what the fuck are you looking at?”

Historia turned forward and gave Mr Ackerman a bored stare. “Nothing important, sir.” She snuck one last look at Ymir, made sure she was staring back. “Nothing to bother with.”

Mr Ackerman rolled his eyes and then finally, class began. Historia settled in, already bored, but she tried her best to focus on the class and the excited chittering of Hitch and Mina in her ear.

“God, this party is going to _kick ass,_ ” Hitch said under her breath.

“I want to get absolutely fucked up,” Mina agreed.

They giggled and looked to Historia. She sighed inwardly. “It’ll be a banger,” she told them, smiling wickedly. “As my parties always are.”

XxX

Ymir usually didn’t let her anger take control of her. She let it run its course, then let it go. But this time, after the past few days, it wasn’t so easy. Control, wasn’t always easy. She snapped her pencil clean in half in her fist after Historia turned away from looking pointedly at her, after announcing to Mr Ackerman and their whole fucking class that Ymir wasn’t worth shit to her.

Ymir ground her teeth together hard and looked out of the window, away from her source of anger. She didn’t want to explode here, or now. She didn’t want to show the class how angry she really could get.

 _Get a fucking grip,_ she told herself, clenching her teeth so hard she felt something crack.

With her pencil snapped in two, she had no choice but to doodle with the one end of it. She let the splintered end cut into her palm, relishing the sting of pain and the tiny bit of blood that leaked out. She completely zoned out of Mr Ackerman’s class. Levi, she liked to call him. It irritated him so much to have her use his first name, so she made a point to do it all the time. She was sure he hated her, he must with all the shit she pulled, but when class ended and she headed for the door, his voice stopped her.

“Ymir,” he said sternly. “A moment, please.”

Ymir paused in front of his desk, tensed up again. Kids walked by, some bumping into her, snickering and staring. She watched them giggle and whisper while staring at her, and fantasized about picking Levi’s desk up and throwing it at them. The mental image was so vivid that Ymir’s heart rate spiked and her hands twitched, and Levi clearing his throat startled her out of the daydream.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked her, not quite as stern as usual.

Ymir rolled her eyes. “Oh please, don’t give me this crap.”

“Don’t be smart with me.”

“I’ll be dumb with you then.”

They stared silently at each other. Levi looked uncomfortable, but Ymir could see the undisguised worry in his eyes. It fucking infuriated her. “Ymir—”

“I tripped,” she sneered at him, pressing her fist to her cheek and staring him down, “and hit my head on my doorknob, repeatedly.” She grinned widely, baring her teeth. “It hurt like hell. So I couldn’t be here this week.”

Levi rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired. “Ymir, you know you can talk to me whenever you need it.”

Ymir dropped her arm, rolled her eyes again. “My life is none of your business.”

“You’re my student, Ymir. You are my business.”

“I’m a lesbian and you’re old, so I’m not interested.”

Levi sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If Ilse had—”

Ymir sucked in a breath and stepped towards him, her fist clenched instinctively, but Levi didn’t flinch. He did stop his words, though, because he realized he had crossed a line. “Stay the fuck out of my life, _Levi_ ,” she spat furiously at him. “I never once asked you to suddenly take an interest in my wellbeing. I’m fine. Accept that and get over it.”

She stormed out of his class, uncaring if she would get detention for her horrible behaviour. Part of her hoped she did. She imagined herself sitting in Mr Smith’s office, of him staring her down with his intensely angry blue eyes, making her feel insignificant and repulsive, and her breath quickened and her anger spiked until she could barely see in front of her anymore.

_This is just such bullshit. I fucking hate this._

Her control was completely and utterly slipping, and she felt like she was outside of her body as she watched it happen.  Without thinking she detoured to the bathroom, and when the door slammed shut behind her, she took her bag off and launched it across the room with an angry yell. It smacked against the opposite wall, something inside cracking and breaking. That wasn’t enough, though. She needed to break something else. She needed to destroy.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, at the ugly bruise on her face and the horrible expression contorting her features. She felt repulsed by what she saw. She cocked her fist and let it fly, satisfied when it slammed against the mirror and a single crack split the middle up. Her skin tore and pain spiked through her but she welcomed it, and watched as her blood started to run down her wrist and plop against the white porcelain sink. Ymir dropped her head until her chin touched her chest and breathed heavily, each intake gasping and every exhale loud.

“They’ll know it was you.”

Her head snapped up and her stomach dropped hard. Historia stood behind her in an open stall doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes bored. She flicked her gaze to the cracks in the mirror and Ymir’s bloody fist.

“Did we make you that upset?”

Ymir clenched her teeth. Maybe if she had gone home instead, or worked harder on holding it all in, then maybe she wouldn’t have lashed out. Maybe it would never have happened.

Angered even more, dangerously so, Ymir whipped around and then she was on Historia. She pushed her into the stall, shut the door behind them and had Historia pinned against the thin metal wall. Historia’s eyes flew open in alarm, but she didn’t reach out to grab at Ymir’s fists around her throat.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Ymir snarled at her. She knew she looked like an animal. She was allowing her anger to take control of her, to wreak havoc and pain. This time, she would let it. This time she wouldn’t fucking care.

Historia’s surprise melted away to boredom. It was the one expression her face knew well, and it irritated the living fuck out of Ymir. “I can buy you new glasses,” Historia told her in a voice dripping with fake sweetness. “I’m pretty rich, and I know you’re poor.”

Ymir slammed her hard against the wall. “I said shut up.”

“Or what? You’ll hit me?”

She wanted to. She really, really wanted to. She released one hand from Historia’s throat, the one still dripping with blood. She had soaked the white of Historia’s shirt and seeing that made her grin wildly.

“Do you want me to?” she growled. “Why do you fucking provoke me so much?”

Historia shrugged. Her expression didn’t change at all, and it only served to make Ymir angrier. She tightened her grip, thumb digging into Historia’s throat. She swallowed, clearly uncomfortable, but again she didn’t try to defend herself from it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ymir asked her, truly confused.

“Who hit you?” Historia asked back. “Who made you this angry, huh?”

Ymir pressed her lips together. Historia’s eyes lingered on her bruise, taking in every detail of it. Having her stare like that made Ymir feel naked and exposed, but she wouldn’t back down and let Historia win. She refused to let Historia feel like she had the control.

“You make me angry,” she supplied, her voice low but shaky with anger. “You always make me angry.”

“You invest that much emotion on me?”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself.”

“What, you think I want to fuck you?”

“You’ll fuck anything that gives you an ounce of the attention you don’t get from your family,” Ymir snarled in her face. She felt absolutely giddy with satisfaction when Historia’s façade finally cracked. The cruel comment did its trick, and Historia’s nostrils flared slightly. Ymir could see the subtle shift, the way her lips parted, her pupils dilated and her eyes lost a bit of their emptiness, now filled with something Ymir knew intimately well—anger.

“I haven’t fucked you yet, have I?” Historia told her. The anger in her voice suited her oddly.

“Not for lack of trying,” Ymir shot back. She grasped at anything she thought would get under Historia’s skin. “You’re obsessed with me, aren’t you? All of the taunting and teasing, the bullying and staring. Are you in love with me or something, huh? You fucking disgust me, Historia. Who the fuck even are you?”

Historia suddenly shoved her backwards. Ymir wasn’t expecting it at all, so she stumbled back easily and slammed against the wall. By the time she blinked, Historia was in her face, openly angry, eyes shining brightly and _alive_ and her lips pressed firmly together. She grabbed the front of Ymir’s shirt and shook her.

“You don’t fucking know me,” she snarled.

Ymir’s head started to pound, starting at her bruised eye. She’d had a minor headache for days, but it was slowly turning into a migraine. She ignored it, though, she welcomed Historia’s anger. She felt like a piece of shit, like a horrible, unredeemable human being. That was _exactly_ how she wanted to feel.

“Do you even know you?” she asked softly.

Historia stared at her. Her usually pristinely neat hair was a little ruffled, like she had just been in a fight—as she had—and her chest was heaving with heavy breaths. She looked flustered and crazy, and she was suddenly irresistibly attractive. Ymir hated her. She _hated_ how fucking hot Historia was, and even then, with Historia’s fists gripping her shirt, with the horrible insults between them, she still looked at Historia’s pink lips and wondered what they tasted like, and still noticed her cleavage and wanted to rip her shirt open and just have her face against that soft flesh.

“Stop fucking staring at my tits,” Historia snapped.

Ymir hated to feel herself flush suddenly. “Stop flashing your tits at me then.”

Historia’s face darkened. Her eyes flicked down to Ymir’s lips, lingered a little too long. Ymir lifted a brow. There was surely no way?

“You’re so fucking insufferable,” Historia told her hotly. “You take up so much space and you’re so loud and you are in my way _all the fucking time_.”

Ymir took full offense to that, and she let the hurt mingle in with her anger, let the pain build up until it started to eat at her. “I’m honestly surprised you even feel at all. You’re like a statue with a different face every day.”

“Shut up.”

_Oh, that hit another nerve._

“What? Don’t like that I can see that you’re so fucking fake?”

“Ymir, shut the fuck up.”

“Poor little rich Historia, who wants for nothing, can’t even form healthy relationships.”

“I’m warning you.”

“I’ve got nothing to lose, least of all to something as pathetic as you. At least I know who I am, Historia. At least I’m not so fucking fake all the time.”

The slap echoed and bounced around them, into Ymir’s ears. Her cheek burned with heat from Historia’s palm, and the pain behind her bruised eye flared up. Her head had snapped to the side from the slap, and in that tiny moment where she was turned away, she felt the fury rush up at her again. Historia had distracted her from it, from the memories she was trying but failing to forget; the reality she so wished she could escape.

 _I want to fucking break you,_ Ymir thought furiously, turning to give Historia a cutting glare. She imagined all of the ways she could physically hurt Historia; how she would look bruised and bloodied, and her heart began to pound even harder.

Without thinking about it, without stopping to consider and regain control, Ymir surged forward. She slammed Historia against the opposite wall—again.

“I will destroy you,” Ymir told her in a dangerous, low tone.

Historia stared up at her, face flushed, eyes wide. “As if you can,” she shot back.

Ymir’s fingers clenched hard around Historia’s upper arms, making her flinch. She wanted to lift her up, shake her around until she got some sense into that gorgeous head of hers. Instead of that, instead of doing something else, Ymir slid her bloodied hand underneath Historia’s chin, gripping it roughly and then kissed her.

She meant it violently. She wanted to hurt and to violate and prove once and for all that she was a waste of air. Instead of the revulsion, of the second, more powerful slap she expected, she felt Historia respond fully to her kiss. Suddenly Historia was surging forward against her, kissing her so hard and so furiously that she stumbled, hitting her back against the wall again. She would definitely bruise if they kept up this back and forth.

Historia’s hand sank into her short hair, pulling hard and tugging painfully, and Ymir wrapped her hand behind Historia’s neck, forcing her in harder. Ymir tasted blood on her tongue and wondered who bled first, and when Historia’s teeth sank into her lip, sharp pain flashing through Ymir’s body, she realized it was probably her.

Certainly not going to let Historia have her way, Ymir flipped them around and ripped at Historia’s shirt. Buttons popped off and pattered to the ground, and then Ymir had her hands underneath Historia’s bra, filled with her breasts. She squeezed them hard and relished the moan Historia released against her mouth.

She wanted more. She needed to feel and touch and taste every inch of Historia, to know her and use her, to make her want and ache and come undone.

Historia kissed her desperately and pushed their hips together, so Ymir dropped one hand underneath her skirt, pushed her underwear aside and then thrust three fingers inside without warning. Historia clearly wasn’t expecting that, but she was incredibly wet, dripping down her thighs, and Ymir felt no resistance at all as her fingers sank all the way inside of Historia’s wet heat.

“Fuck,” Ymir groaned against Historia’s mouth. “You got that horny while fighting with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Historia’s nails dug into her scalp. “Shut the fuck up, Ymir,” she huffed, “and just fuck me.”

Ymir lifted Historia up and pressed her against the wall. She slammed her fingers in hard, satisfied when Historia cried out in pain. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

Historia opened her mouth, but Ymir took it in another violent kiss, and then Historia was desperately riding her fingers and groaning into the kiss, and Ymir watched her fall absolutely apart. Historia came hard, her inner walls fluttering and clamping down on Ymir’s fingers, forcing them to stop. Ymir bent down and clamped her teeth on Historia’s shoulder, biting down so hard she tasted blood and heard Historia’s sweet cry in her ears. Historia jerked hard against her, coming again, and Ymir pulled back in surprise.

“You really are a freak,” she told her, smirking in sick amusement. “I bite you and that makes you come again, huh? What, if I slapped you would you come too?”

Historia violently pulled away from her, sending her stumbling—yet again—into the other wall. She nearly tripped and smacked her face against the toilet, and watched Historia fix her clothing and hair and attempt to look like she hadn’t just been fucked to pieces by someone she despised. When she was done, she pressed her body against Ymir’s and tugged the front of her shirt, hard. Ymir stared into her eyes, not sure what she was seeing. The furious Historia from before was gone, once again replaced by the usual blankness.

“If you tell anyone what just happened, I’ll ruin your life.”

They both glanced at each other’s lips. Ymir grinned and felt blood trickle down her chin. Her lip had been bitten to pieces. “Bold of you to assume I even have a life you could ruin.”

“I mean it, Ymir. You’re a nobody and I’m the popular girl. If anyone finds out I let you fuck me, my life is over.”

“Why should I care about your petty little life?”

“Because if you want to do this again,” she grabbed Ymir’s bloody hand and pressed it against her breast, “then you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She dropped Ymir’s hand and then stormed out of the stall. She clearly didn’t even pause to check her appearance, because Ymir heard the outer door swing shut loudly, and then she exhaled a harsh breath.

Her fingers were still wet with Historia and the smell of her surrounded Ymir. She looked down at her hands, covered in come and blood, and she wondered what the absolute fuck had just happened.

_Did I just fuck Historia Reiss? And did she just tell me she wants more?_

XxX

Historia rushed to her car to change her ruined clothes, reapply her makeup and fix her fucking hair. She huffed and frowned through the whole process and hoped to god no one had seen her flee the bathroom in the state she had. The moment Ymir slunk out of there looking just as dishevelled, it wouldn’t take two brain cells to come to the correct conclusion.

She waited until second period ended, then took her bag and headed to third. Mrs Zoe greeted her with a smile when she entered, and Historia took her usual seat towards the back with her friends.

“Why’re you wearing different clothes?” Hitch asked her curiously, eying the blue blouse and skinny jeans.

“Because I can do whatever I want,” Historia responded playfully, but inwardly she sighed and hoped her friend decided to let it go.

“Your neck is all red,” Mina added unhelpfully. “Did something—” She stopped short, eyes widening. She and Hitch shared a look, understanding dawning, and then they started to snicker and Hitch bumped her shoulder playfully.

“You sly bitch,” Hitch laughed. “Who was it?”

Historia swallowed. There was no way out of this, she knew. She didn’t want to pretend like someone had hurt her—even though Ymir actually had—so admitting to the sex—which she actually had had—was the only way to go. She didn’t owe them shit, though, so she merely gave them a coy smile and pulled her phone out. She pretended to text someone intensely until the final bell rang and class started. Her heart started to pound, worried that Ymir would stride into the class and sit behind her as usual, and she would have to pretend like nothing had happened and like she didn’t still feel the aching bite on her shoulder.

Her pussy felt bruised and her breasts hurt, and her lips were a little swollen from the frantic kissing, but despite all that, Historia felt… alive. She could actually feel her own heartbeat, something she usually couldn’t—she knew it was there, she just didn’t think she had it sometimes.

Time passed by enough to confirm that Ymir was either bunking this period or had gone home entirely. Historia really hoped she had gone home, because she didn’t know how she would physically react to Ymir if she saw her again, so soon after their frantic encounter.

She ached. She wanted more.

“No one important,” Historia finally told her friends. “Trust me.”

Hitch lifted a brow. By the firm press of her lips, she clearly wasn’t impressed with being left out of the loop.

“Was it good though?” Mina piped in, eyes shining.

Historia allowed herself a rare genuine grin. “The best I’ve had ever.” It certainly wasn’t a lie.

They’d had the most aggressive, violent sex Historia had ever experienced. She usually didn’t have it rough, actually, but she had been wanting to try it for a long time. She blamed Ymir. Ever since the first day they had met at the start of high school, over 4 years ago, she had been fantasizing about having Ymir slam her up against a wall and utterly _ruin_ her. She spent so much time trying to repress it, that she had developed a sort of hatred for Ymir. Ymir’s rotten personality made it easier to hate her.

But god, Ymir had really used the fuck out of her. Historia pressed her thighs together, worried that she was growing wet again. She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, that she desperately wanted to do it again.

She wanted Ymir to tear her apart without any regard for her wellbeing, only concerned with her body and the sex and everything meaningless in between.

Sighing, Historia put her phone away and pretended to focus in class. Despite trying, she didn’t hear a thing her stupid friends or her teacher said at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))
> 
> So, comments are very much appreciated. Let me know what you think! There will be an update next Saturday, so keep an eye out for that! Thanks for reading.


	2. I hate you when you’re gone, I hate you turn me on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Masturbation, blackmail & physical abuse. You have been warned.
> 
> chapter title inspired by I Hate You - Sick Puppies

“ _Fuck_.”

Ymir pulled her slick hand out of her boxers, chest heaving and sweat coating the entire length of her body. She stared lazily up at the tabaco stained ceiling and let the events of a few days ago drown her. Even though she had just made herself come three times, she still felt incredibly amped up.

She remembered how good Historia’s lips had tasted, coated in blood. She remembered the invasive swipe of her tongue and the heat of her porcelain skin. Her breasts had been incredibly soft and wonderful to fondle, but the real prize had been her pussy.

Ymir shivered, eyes squeezing shut. She remembered the feeling of being inside of her. The wet, quivering heat. Historia’s desperate moans echoed in her ears, and Ymir shot up in bed, threw her pillow across the room and watched, satisfied, as her lamp shattered on the floor.

No one was home, so it didn’t matter.

Ymir stood and went to her desk, where a full bottle of vodka stood hidden behind her school bag. She retrieved it and went to the kitchen to get a shot glass, then went back to her room and closed the door.

Days ago, Ymir had fucked Historia Reiss. Now, she sat alone in her room drinking vodka, trying to blot out the thing that was her life. She took three shots one after the other and nearly threw up, but held it down and felt the burn in her chest. She hadn’t eaten in a few days, so the alcohol would hit her really fucking hard.

She set the bottle aside and plopped down in her bed again. Her clothes and sheets all stank of sweat, but she didn’t feel like washing them. It was late at night and she was exhausted from masturbating. To distract herself, she grabbed her phone and went through Instagram.

There were multiple posts from kids at school. They were uploading videos and pictures at a party, and when Ymir studied them a little more closely, she recognized Historia’s mansion.

Irritated, she closed the app and tossed her phone onto the bed. The alcohol was already hitting her, and she swayed heavily when she reached for her vodka. When her fingers brushed the edge of the bottle, a wicked idea formed. Ymir stared at the liquid in the bottle, then her lips split in a grin that opened the wound Historia’s teeth had made.

Ymir licked at the blood as she hurried into a shower. It was time to inform Historia of what she had gotten herself into.

XxX

Historia Reiss could handle her alcohol pretty damn well despite her size. She downed another nameless drink and tossed the plastic cup to the ground, relieved to feel the alcohol burn its way down her throat.

There was a girl across the room, sitting by Reiner and his crowd, giggling and touching his arm. Every now and again, she looked up and caught Historia’s stare and sent her a teasing smile. Historia leaned against the wall on the opposite side, watching her occasionally, studying the throngs of horny and intoxicated teens in her house.

Her parents were gone for work, so party time it was. She was pretty sure Hitch and Mina were in the bathroom smoking weed or something.

The girl laughed loudly enough to garner Historia’s attention, so she flicked her eyes there to catch her staring. Even from this far, Historia could see how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a pale blue and her dark black hair cascaded over her shoulder. Her look was smouldering and Historia felt powerful, knowing this poor girl wanted her but knew not what she truly wanted.

Bored of it, though, Historia walked off to find her dumb friends. She did, in fact, find them in the downstairs bathroom giggling loudly and passing a joint around. Historia highjacked it before Mina could take her drag, and took a deep pull. She exhaled all the smoke in Mina’s face.

“Hey, bitch!” Mina grumbled, but burst out laughing again.

“How drunk are you guys?” Historia asked them.

Mina was sitting on the floor between the massive bath and the toilet, and Hitch was seated on the toilet with her legs crossed. Her eyes were lidded and she looked like her soul had left her not too long ago.

“Pretty fucked up,” Mina giggled.

Historia spotted a couple in the tub, fast asleep. “Hannah and Franz,” Hitch told her, smiling. “They tried to fuck, but no one brought a condom. We dared Hannah to just suck his dick, but then they passed out.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Mina added. “I did not want to see his dick.”

“I did. Hannah brags for a reason.”

Historia hopped up on the sink counter and took another drag. She then passed it back to Mina. “It’s not that big,” she told them carelessly. “Just average.”

Both of them stared at her, eyes wide. “Wait, did you and Franz—”

“No, Hitch,” she interrupted. “But I made him think we were, just so I could see what Hannah was going on about.”

“Cheating bastard.”

“I did threaten him a little.”

They laughed so loudly they woke the drunk couple, who sat up and rubbed at their bloodshot eyes. They noticed Historia and Franz blushed while Hannah smiled at her.

“Historia!” she yelled. “It’s been forever.”

She tried to crawl over for a hug, but Historia held her back with a finger against her forehead. “You smell like puke, Han. Stop trying to touch me.”

Hannah laughed like that hadn’t been hurtful, and then collapsed back against Franz. “This party is so lit, Historia. Your parties always are.”

“Perks of having rich, absent parents.”

Historia enjoyed the way everyone shifted in sudden discomfort. It was always so interesting to see how other people reacted to those sorts of admissions. Maybe they all thought she was perfect? Had grown up well and happy and adjusted? Historia snorted.

The bathroom door creaked open and the girl that had been laughing Reiner up popped her head inside.

“Is that some weed I smell?”

“Robin, get your fucking ass in here,” Hitch yelled at her. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

“You’ve been in here the whole time,” Robin laughed at her. “I was with Reiner.”

“Oh, poor boy,” Hitch groaned.

Robin gave them an amused smile. “He tries so hard, it’s sweet.”

“It’s gross,” Historia interjected.

Robin’s eyes flicked to her, and she approached slowly, like she was a cat and Historia the bird. Historia let her think it. “You must be Historia,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I’m Hitch’s cousin, in town for the weekend. She wanted to introduce me to you.”

“Don’t fuck my cousin,” Hitch warned, but her tone let everyone know she knew that if Historia wanted to, there was nothing and no one to stop her.

“Hitch, don’t say shit like that,” Robin laughed over her shoulder, but her face had gone pink.

There was no doubt that this girl had been eye fucking Historia all night. Curious to see exactly how she could use her looks to charm, Historia pasted a sweet smile on her face and lowered her head a bit to stare up through her lashes. When Robin turned back around to look at her, she faltered in her steps.

“I noticed you earlier,” Historia told her hotly. “You were staring at me a lot.”

Robin looked shy suddenly, but she didn’t deny the accusation. Instead she joined Historia on the counter, sitting close but not close enough. There was a tiny bit of space between them, so Historia scooted until they were flush against each other. She heard Robin take a sudden intake of air.

“I warned you,” Hitch told her from across the room, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out in a giant cloud that framed her face.

Robin giggled. “You did. I wasn’t prepared.”

Historia lifted her brow and wondered exactly what the two of them had discussed regarding her. “So, Robin. Tell me about yourself.”

Historia reached out for the joint and pretended to listen as Robin launched into a practiced narration of who she was and why her existence mattered. Historia threw a question out every now and then, but mostly let Robin speak. She liked to make people feel like she was listening, even when she wasn’t, because that really made people feel understood and in turn it made them trust her.

Eventually, though, she got bored of hearing Robin speak. Hitch was showing Mina something on her phone and apparently Hannah had decided to follow through on that blowjob. Franz was too lost in drunken orgasmic bliss to care that the bathroom was full of girls while his dick was otherwise being swallowed.

“So, when I finish researching—”

“You know,” Historia interrupted, leaning in and running a thumb over Robin’s lower lip, “I really like this shade of lipstick.” She really didn’t. “Where did you get it?”

Robin’s shoulders moved rapidly as she breathed, and Historia watched for each little tell that she was having a profound affect. Clearly she was, because just from her flushed skin and blown pupils, Historia could tell that Robin most definitely wanted to fuck her. Idly, Historia considered it.

“Um, I got it at—”

“Let’s go somewhere private.” Historia hopped off the counter, took Robin’s hand and tugged her with.

Hitch noticed them leaving and gave her cousin a look, but Robin seemed all too pleased. Historia rolled her eyes as soon as none of them could see her face. She dragged Robin with her all the way to the second floor, intent on taking her to the recreation room or maybe—possibly—her bedroom. She usually kept the door closed and locked when she had parties like this, because she hated to walk into her own goddamn room to find people fucking right on her bed. Whoever attended her parties regularly knew that her room was off limits, but sometimes a newbie showed up and they didn’t know the rules, and that usually resulted in an abrupt and furious end to the festivities.

As they passed by intoxicated couples making out and grinding in the hallway, Historia’s mind snapped to Ymir and to their sudden and explosive encounter in the school bathroom stall. Her heart jumped into her throat and a wave of arousal swept through her. Not once did the prospect of sleeping with Robin turn her on, and yet one little errant thought of Ymir made her feel wetness seeping into her panties. Realizing that Ymir had such a hold on her so effortlessly made Historia feel almost blind with rage.

Impatient, Historia stopped in the middle of the hallway and then shoved Robin against the wall. Robin gave a squeak in surprise, but then they were kissing. Her lips were soft and tasted like strawberry, and Historia tried so hard to lose herself in it, to feel _anything_. She wanted to feel the familiar singe of lust and darkness that Ymir had set fire in her, but there was simply nothing. Nothing at all.

Robin started to go for her shirt, but Historia pulled away with a sigh and knocked her hands away. Robin jumped, startled, and stared at her with big, blue eyes. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Historia gave her hand a comforting squeeze and made herself smile. “I just realized we’re both on substances, and we probably shouldn’t.”

“Oh!” Robin exhaled loudly. “Oh, god. Yeah! I thought—well, you’re right. Thank you, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’d never take adv—” The lie died on Historia’s lips when she turned and noticed her bedroom door hanging open. It was dark within, but she could only imagine the sordid things happening in her sanctuary, and it filled her with fury. She politely excused herself, told Robin to head back to Hitch and make sure they didn’t start snorting anything, then marched to her room. She stormed through the door and reached for the light switch, but before she could turn it on a warm hand grabbed hold of her wrist and she was tugged hard into the room. The door slammed shut and she was slammed against it, and then a familiar scent filled her nose and a body pressed to hers, and lips pressed to the clothed spot where the bite still hurt.

“Nice party you got here,” Ymir purred against her shirt.

Historia sucked in a deep breath. Her heart had started thundering the second she smelt Ymir and realized it was her and _fuck, why did she feel like this?_

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” was the only thing Historia could think to say.

“What? I wanted a moment with you. Been trying to get you alone for an hour now, but you keep staring at girls who want you and hanging out with friends who don’t care.”

Historia flushed. A soft flare of arousal hit her at the knowledge that Ymir had been watching her, had probably seen every interaction with Robin. Her clit throbbed. “So, what? You got jealous?”

Ymir pressed her lips to Historia’s throat, teeth scraping but not sinking in. Historia tensed for it, but there was no pain yet.

“I wanted to see if you were real when you told me we could do this again.”

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“Who the fuck would I even tell, Historia?”

Historia shrugged. “I don’t know, your imaginary friends?”

Ymir snorted loudly. “Like anyone would believe me, anyway. Do you really think I’d start telling people I fucked you? They’d think I’m just trying to look cool. Well, cooler than usual.”

Historia wanted to hit her. “Shut up, Ymir, and do what you came here to do.”

Ymir finally lifted her face and in the darkness their eyes met. She looked a little crazed, but she was otherwise everything Historia remembered and craved. The grin that split her face was extremely wicked and the sight of it made Historia feel a little worried, though she was unsure why.

“Oh, I intend to,” Ymir purred hotly. Her breath smelt like vodka and coke, and she clearly had been drinking quite a bit.

“Good,” Historia huffed, annoyed by Ymir’s arrogance in _her_ room. “Use that mouth for something other than talking shit, then.” She roughly pushed Ymir down, pleased when she dropped to her knees almost eagerly.

“At once, Your Grace,” Ymir mocked.

Historia slid a hand in her hair and pulled hard. Ymir hissed at the pain, and in revenge ripped her panties clean off.

“Those were expensive panties, you jackass.”

Ymir barked out an amused laugh. “For this expensive pussy?”

The moment Ymir’s hot mouth was on her, Historia lost all ability to process intelligent thought. Her leg somehow ended up over Ymir’s shoulder and her hips started to move in a slow rhythm that Ymir’s excellent tongue set.

“Oh, god, Ymir,” she groaned, hating herself for showing her pleasure but not able to hold it in. “How are you doing that?”

Ymir chuckled against her pussy. “Practice,” she responded. The vibration of her voice and the wash of her warmth breath made Historia shiver.

Ymir dove back in, teasingly tonguing around her folds before deciding to focus on her clit. By then it was throbbing badly and Historia could feel how incredibly wet she was.

“Three fingers,” she groaned out when Ymir sucked on her clit. “Now.”

Ymir paused for the longest second. She glanced up and they stared into each other’s eyes, and Historia noticed that Ymir had the oddest scar along her brow. Ymir probably hated being told what to do, but she obeyed anyway. As if to confirm Historia’s suspicion, Ymir viciously thrust three fingers into her and Historia cried out in pain and pleasure. She hadn’t been prepared for the sudden stretch, but the burn of it made her feel dizzy with want.

And so they went, Ymir pounding into her while she sloppily sucked on her clit and lapped at her pussy, and Historia came incredibly hard staring down at Ymir between her legs. She nearly sent them both to the floor when she came, but Ymir had a hand clamped around her hip and kept her pressed to the door, and when Historia’s scream died down her throat was hoarse and her heart was thudding so hard she wondered how she had ever forgotten the feel of it.

Ymir dumped her leg off her shoulder and stood, wiping her face off on her sleeve. “Look at you, shuddering after letting me eat you out. I wonder how many people heard you scream? I wonder how many of them wonder who you just fucked?”

Historia glared at her. “Don’t you dare leave this room through the door.”

“Or what?”

“No one will believe you.”

“What, that we’re fucking?”

Ymir grinned and backed her up against the door again. Historia wanted to pull away from her, but Ymir kissed the underside of her jaw and her lower back tingled.

“I’ll tell people you took advantage of me,” she breathed out, eyes squeezed shut.

“I figured.” All of the haughtiness from earlier disappeared from Ymir’s tone. She stepped away from Historia and strode over to her bed. “You see, I noticed that you’re sharp. You know how to manipulate people, Historia. But one thing you’ve mistaken me for is a fool, and I’m no fool.”

Historia gave Ymir a pitying expression. “You know I can say anything about you, and these idiots will believe it.”

Ymir clapped her hands together, laughing. “Exactly! So why the fuck won’t they believe you if you say that I raped you? Right? And god, I was thinking about this _so_ much ever since our moment at school.” Historia didn’t like the confident lilt to Ymir’s tone. She looked too giddy, too proud of herself. “So I realized what I need to do. I need blackmail. Now how can I, a lowly Ymir, blackmail the rich and gorgeous Historia? Well…” She reached down and took something from Historia’s bedside table, and Historia realized with a start that it was her phone.

“Ymir—”

“So I figured, you’d definitely let me fuck you again. You wouldn’t have said what you did if you didn’t want me to, you know? So my grand plan was to get you in here and fuck you, and record it on my phone.”

While she grinned smugly, Historia rushed forward to grab for her phone. Ymir easily held it up out of her reach, so fucking tall. Ymir laughed at her.

“Delete that fucking video!” Historia snarled at her.

“And why would I do that?”

Ymir hit play, and Historia heard the awful sound of her own moaning. Ymir tilted the phone so that she could see, and her stomach dropped.

“Can’t tell anyone you didn’t want it, the way you shoved me into your cunt.”

This time there was no slap. Instead Historia cocked her fist and let fly, and she grunted in satisfaction when her small fist connected with Ymir’s jaw. It barely had any affect at all. Ymir’s head snapped to the side and she swayed slightly, but that seemed to be more the alcohol than the actual hit.

“That was so pathetic, oh my god.” Ymir genuinely laughed at her. “A cat could punch me harder than that.”

“Bend down, Ymir. Let me try again.”

Ymir immediately did so. Even though she clearly was somewhat drunk, there was sober clarity on her face. She looked fiercely serious. “Go on then, hit me again. Hit me like you want me to hurt. Let’s see if it will.”

Historia hated being mocked. If she refused to, Ymir would laugh and call her a coward. If she did and it didn’t land well, she would again be mocked. Historia’s chest pulled tight with anger. Neither option made her the winner, so she picked the one most to amuse her. She decided to throw her fist again.

Her fist slammed into Ymir’s face, right against the still ugly bruise along her cheekbone and eye. Ymir didn’t move an inch despite how much it must have hurt. She didn’t flinch or even move from the force of the hit. She merely stared into Historia’s eyes, and they stood there breathing the same air. Ymir finally knocked her hand away and straightened, tall and imposing.

Historia probably should have been afraid of her, but she wasn’t.

“Better luck next time,” Ymir told her coldly.

Historia narrowed her eyes. “What, I don’t hit as hard as daddy does?”

Ymir lashed out so suddenly that Historia couldn’t even process what happened. One second she was sneering up at Ymir, then she was on her bed with Ymir atop her, a hand around her throat. Ymir bared her teeth and her eyes looked wild.

“Don’t ever try to hit me again,” she told her darkly. “Or you’ll regret it.”

Historia’s eyes were wide. She could hear Ymir’s haggard breathing and feel the way her fingers trembled badly, even as they pressed hard against her throat and nearly cut off her breathing.

“So, what now? Are you going to post that video somewhere?”

Ymir’s grip eased up. “What? Of course not.” She released her hand and then collapsed onto the bed beside Historia. They both stared up at the ceiling. “I just want some leverage on you, is all. In case you decide you’re done with me too soon.”

Historia sighed. The music from outside the room was loud and the people littering her house were even louder. “That’s cunning,” she finally said.

“You’re not the only one that knows how to lie and manipulate.”

Historia started to laugh. It wasn’t fake or mocking, it was genuine, unbridled laughter. She convulsed so hard that she hurt her stomach muscles, and curled into a ball as a result. Ymir had sat up and was staring at her with a worried look on her face, like maybe Historia had finally lost her mind.

“Look at us,” Historia told her, tears from the laughter streaming down her face. “We’re made for each other.”

Ymir reached out and wiped the tears away with a thumb. “I won’t ruin your reputation, Historia. That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want, then? Besides my body.”

Ymir grinned at her. The anger and hostility were gone, replaced again by an easiness that Historia envied. “I just want to tell you what to do sometimes. Nothing has to change, really. Honestly, I don’t want the attention from the school if people find out we fucked. I’m hated enough as is.”

“You do that to yourself, you know.” Ymir gave her a look that said _duh_. “What exactly are you going to expect of me?”

Ymir swept a lock of blonde hair over her ear, and Historia shivered at the sensation of her finger caressing her skin. Ymir seemed highly pleased by her reaction. “Maybe once in a while I’ll make you do something a little degrading in front of your friends.”

“I’m going to murder you.”

Ymir’s smile remained. “Death doesn’t scare me.”

“Oh? I’ll ruin your family then.”

Ymir snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Historia sighed. “So long as you fuck me like I’m your god and don’t let people find out, I’ll go along with your stupid little blackmail.”

Ymir gave her an odd look. “You really get off on it, don’t you?”

Just this once, Historia decided to be honest. “It’s the only thing I feel.”

Ymir opened her mouth, but Historia was honestly so tired of talking. She pushed Ymir onto her back and then crawled atop her. “I’m going to sit on your face,” Historia told her firmly. “Make me come again.”

Ymir’s warm hands covered her hips, and then Historia was pulled forward and that hot mouth covered her slick flesh and Ymir’s tongue flicked harshly over her clit. Historia nearly saw stars, and she couldn’t fathom why it had to be Ymir to make her feel these things. Before long she was riding Ymir’s face, her own face screwed up in pleasure, and then she was coming and the rest of the world didn’t matter to her.

While she sank down from the high, she felt Ymir’s teeth at her inner thigh and sighed at the flash of hot pain.

“Look at you,” Ymir purred thickly against her skin. “Enjoying my mouth so much.”

Historia huffed. “You should talk less with that mouth.”

All Ymir responded with was a smile and a wink.

XxX

The taste of Historia lingered on her tongue as Ymir walked slowly back towards her house. It was a long walk and she was severely drunk, but that was okay, because she had successfully managed to go through with her plan.

Ymir grinned to herself, giddy. She couldn’t believe it had actually worked, but here she was, and there the video sat on her phone. She didn’t intend on letting a soul see it, not unless Historia did something unforgiveable. What Historia didn’t really realize was that Ymir would suffer the consequences, too.

No one at school liked her. Everyone acted like she was some nasty disease, some nobody that if spoken to would infect them with her loser infection. She didn’t let it bother her, but loneliness was her only friend and sometimes she hated being alive because there was just no point, really.

So, if she was going to off herself, she might as well cause enough chaos before that day. She did want to, maybe—kill herself. She didn’t have anything she lived for. Not herself, not anyone else. Not even her possessions. She acted so carelessly about her life and her future because she didn’t see herself having one.

Ymir already knew how she would do it. There was a full bottle of sleeping pills at home, and a rope she had already woven into the perfect noose. She didn’t want to experience hanging herself, you know, but she didn’t trust the pills to do it for her. So, what better way than to get the noose ready, down the pills and when she fucked off to sleep, she wouldn’t notice her neck break.

Ymir’s good mood slowly started to evaporate. With every step home, the giddiness slipped away. She sobered but her walk was still a bit off balance, and the night had turned chilly. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, hissing when the ripped skin on her fist pulled and bled. She had already hurt it again when she had manhandled Historia. She really needed to stop hurting her hands, she was good with them.

Ymir puffed out icy breaths, so occupied with the misty clouds that she only noticed the car in the driveway when she stepped up to her door. Her entire body froze and her stomach opened into a pit. Every ounce of emotion drained away, and all that was left was terror. She didn’t want to go in. She didn’t want to open the door. But she knew she had to.

 _Stop being a fucking baby,_ she told herself. Sucking in a breath to calm her thundering heart, Ymir unlocked and opened the door as quietly as possible.

The living room was dark, so too the kitchen. Down the hallway a light was on, but she didn’t hear any noises and hoped to fucking god he was asleep. Swallowing hard, she snuck her way down the hallway to her room. She stopped short just before her door, breath now stuck in her throat.

“Ymir,” he called for her calmly.

The light had been hers. He was sitting on her bed, the vodka bottle cradled in his big hands. She remembered the broken lamp then and sheer terror rocked through her.

“Get your ass in here,” he ordered.

Ymir did so immediately, even though every cell in her body screamed at her to _run_. She had to face this. “I can explain, dad.”

He seemed so… calm. So utterly devoid of emotion, and yet the moment she spoke, he seemed to waken with fury. He threw the half empty bottle at her face, but she managed to lift her arms in time. The bottle hit the ground then, shattering at her feet, and then her father was on her.

He grabbed hold of her neck and gripped it so tightly she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t dare fight back. He kicked her legs out and shoved her face into the puddle of alcohol and glass. She cried out in pain.

“Do you think I work as fucking hard as I do so that you can steal from me and get drunk in my house, huh?” he shouted. “And then I get home, exhausted, and you aren’t even here. Where the fucking hell were you, Ymir?”

She tried not to breathe any vodka in, and her face was starting to burn badly. Small shards of glass had sunk into her skin and the vodka burned the wounds.

“I went to a party,” she cried out, words bubbling in the alcohol.

He released her and stalked away. Ymir immediately sat up, gasping and coughing. Her right eye was blurry and red, and she was terrified that maybe she’d gotten glass in there.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he shouted, waving his hands. His face was incredibly red.

Ymir watched her father pace beside her bed, probably wondering what to do with her. From the way his eyes sat lidded, she realized he was drunk. Incredibly drunk. He wasn’t the sort of man that showed when the alcohol had him. He could drink endlessly and still seem as sober and calm as before, except he turned incredibly violent when under the influence. Ymir knew this well. Intimately well.

“I look after you, Ymir!” he shouted at her. “I bust my ass so that you can go to school and eat and have clothes on your fucking body.”

Ymir wondered if something had gone wrong at his work. He was never really _this_ angry. Maybe he really had just been upset about the vodka—that he couldn’t come home and drink it. “I’m sorry,” Ymir told him softly—fearfully.

Her father stopped abruptly and looked at her. She hated how much she looked like him. He was tall, dark skinned and brown haired, but his eyes were blacker than anything as they stared down at her with endless depths of hatred and repulsion. Ymir couldn’t hold his stare and looked away. If she wasn’t careful, she would start to hyperventilate.

“Your fucking face!” her father shouted.

He grabbed her roughly and lifted her clean off the floor. Ymir’s lips trembled. “You did it!” she yelled at him.

He stared at her, incredulous. “Are you stupid, child?”

She bit down on her lip. His fist sank into her ribs, freshening a huge black bruise that already sat there. He dropped her and she doubled over, gasping for breath. His boot sank into her stomach and she yelled in pain. That seemed to anger him, because he kicked her again and Ymir blacked out. Moments later, when she woke, he was gone. She lifted herself just enough to vomit everything in her stomach, and then collapsed onto her side. Hot tears spilled across her cheeks and she curled into a small, pathetic ball. She made sure to cry softly, so he didn’t hear.

In the morning Ymir woke up on the floor. She couldn’t move, because her ribs hurt so badly it knocked the wind out of her. She heard a shoe scuff nearby and flinched.

“Oh no, Ymir.”

Her father was by her side immediately. He had a sorrowful look on his face. Ymir sucked in a stuttering breath as he carefully lifted her and took her to the bathroom. He washed the vomit and blood from her face, and picked the small pieces of glass from her skin. He ran a bath and then told her to clean up. Ymir did so, and he left a fresh set of clothes outside the door for when she was done.

Ymir lifted her injured hand and stared at the jagged cuts along her knuckles. She clenched her hand, pulling the skin taut and ripping them open again. Blood dripped from her hand and plopped into the water, and she curiously watched the scarlet clouds dissipate.

Eventually, she washed and climbed out. It hurt so badly that she sobbed as she got up and dressed herself. The tears burned hotly on the cuts on her face, and every breath made her ribs ache badly. She prodded the blackened skin, hoping that he hadn’t broken anything. He had only broken a bone once, her arm, and that had been hell. He’d had to take her to the hospital and all of the nurses had looked at her plethora of injuries with knowing looks and pitying stares.

She limped slowly to her room, intent on getting into bed and sleeping off the worst of it. Her father was in her room when she got there, cleaning up the last bit of the broken glass. He gave her a pleasant smile when he spotted her.

“Good, you’re out. I got some breakfast.”

He pointed at a McDonald’s bag on her desk. The last thing Ymir felt was hungry, but she pasted a smile on her face for him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Come sit here with me.”

He sat down on the bed and she joined him. He lifted her shirt to look at her ribs and gently pressed his fingers against her battered skin. She bit down on her lip so that she didn’t cry out in pain. When he was done, he dropped her shirt and sighed.

“Nothing’s broken,” he told her with a hand on her shoulder. “About last night, Ymir… I was drunk, I’m sorry. You made me do it, Ymir. You know you shouldn’t touch my alcohol, but you did it anyway. I try really hard for you, Ymir. I’m sorry that you can’t listen to me when it counts.”

He sounded so genuine that Ymir almost believed him, but she had gone through this too many times to ever believe a thing that came out of his mouth. She wouldn’t dare tell him that, though, so she gave him a weak smile.

“It’s okay,” she uttered in a small, defeated voice.

A look of sadness passed over his face. Ymir looked at him, at this man that had fathered her and now tormented her, and she missed him. She missed who he used to be. It hadn’t always been like this, but the man he was had disappeared a long time ago, and Ymir would never see him again. She was left with this monster that put on a face to make sure she didn’t call the police on the abuse.

“You can’t go to school for a bit,” he told her gently, smoothing her hair back. “Your face looks terrible. I don’t want anyone talking. You’ll make sure you catch up, right?”

Ymir swallowed thickly and nodded. She had already known he was going to keep her home. He seemed pleased by her acceptance, so he stood and strode happily out of her room. “Thank you for the McDonalds,” Ymir called after him. He paused by the door and looked at her, smiling.

“It’s the least I can do,” he told her, and then he shut the door and Ymir listened to his footsteps fade away.

_The least you could do is die a horrible death._

Anxiety started to crawl its way up her spine. She sat on her bed, aching everywhere, and then the attack hit her. She couldn’t breathe anymore, couldn’t think or feel. She bent forward and clutched at herself, and she started to heave out heavy sobs. Her head hurt and spun and she was sure her face had started to bleed again. Despite his ‘caring’ for her, he hadn’t even patched anything up. Ymir cried and hyperventilated until everything cleared up, and then she took her first aid kit from under her bed and started to clean and dress her wounds. Her face looked terrible.

The bruise looked fresh, with her eye now a slightly red colour again. Small cuts littered the right half of her face, with a big gash on her cheek. It would scar. Like all the others, it would scar. More physical evidence of what he did when he got a little angry.

When she was done with her wounds, she limped over to her food and brought it to bed. Even though she didn’t feel like she could eat, she needed to. There wasn’t any food in the house and she only ate when she managed to find money somewhere to buy something, or after he beat her. She had learnt to adapt to it, but her body was so fucking weak all the time. She couldn’t concentrate in class because the hunger got so bad sometimes that she had to hold back the tears all the time.

When she bit into the small burger, flavour exploded on her tongue and the hunger rushed at her. Ymir devoured the burger and all the chips and drank the cup of coke in only a handful of minutes. She felt a little sick from eating so much so suddenly, but she forced herself to keep it all down and then she settled into bed. She took her phone out and shakily scrolled to a familiar number. She tapped out a message, hit send then tossed her phone onto her bed.

Sleep didn’t come easily. She stared at the spot where the puddle of vodka had been, and she remembered his hand around the back of her neck, holding her down. She started to shiver violently.

He was so loud in the house. He banged things around and cursed loudly, and whenever she heard him, she flinched. Every time his footsteps thundered down the hallway, her heart spiked in fear. But he left her alone. She only relaxed once he left for work, and even then, she just wanted to die.


	3. I lost myself inside your tainted smile again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Mudshovel - Staind
> 
> Because of what today is I decided to post a day early. Enjoy!

Ymir’s fingers clenched together so tightly they drained of all colour. She stared down at the table, her short hair just enough to curtain the top of her face and the worst of her bruises and cuts.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t died in her sleep. Now three days later, she had no choice but to walk down into town to the usual café to meet with someone so that she didn’t fail school. Sometimes she wondered what the point was, but other times she had enough sense in her to make sure she didn’t fuck up now, just in case she decided to try living for herself. If that time came, she needed an education.

The seat in front of her filled with a body and Ymir flinched when a stack of papers slapped down onto the table.

“Notes, tests and worksheets you missed this week,” he told her neutrally.

Ymir shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and glanced up at the man across from her. His grey eyes were angry—so very angry, but not at her. Never at her.

“Thank you,” she told him softly. She leaned forward and reached for the papers, but he grabbed hold of her wrist and Ymir’s heart jumped into her throat. She yanked her arm away and ignored the way he stared at her knowingly.

“Where did you get hurt this time?” Levi asked her.

Ymir swallowed. “Fell off my bed again,” she lied plainly. “But the face was something else. I was drunk.”

Levi flagged down a waiter and ordered a black coffee. He seemed upset, but he was still outrageously calm. He always seemed to just have no emotion at all, or every spectrum of negative emotion layered invisibly atop each other. Strangely, Ymir felt safe with him.

“You can’t keep missing this much school, Ymir,” he told her.

Ymir sighed. The same argument. The same bullshit. “Can’t control it, teach. But thank you for helping me.”

“Ymir, let me help you more than this.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No,” she said softly. “You can’t tell anyone, Levi. I mean it. I hate that you even know, but you do, and you’re already helping me so much.”

Levi’s fist clenched atop the table. Ymir focused on his small hand and wondered how strong he was, if he could hit as hard as her father did and if he ever had hit someone before.

“Ymir, what if next time he doesn’t stop with a few bruises? You could end up dead.”

She sat back, holding back the tears. She felt an endless amount of shame that Levi knew that her father abused her. “I won’t. Before long I’ll be out of school and I can leave home and him and live for myself.”

“Ymir, please. Just let me go to Principal Erwin or the police. Let me call child protective services, I—”

“ _NO!_ ” People in the café looked at them curiously, but Ymir avoided looking up so that no one could see her face. “I already said no, Levi. There’s no point. No one will believe me anyway.”

“He leaves your fucking body black, Ymir! There’s plenty evidence.”

“He’ll just say I fight with kids at school. You already know what everyone thinks of me.”

“I’m on your side in this.” He exhaled harshly in frustration. “I can help you, but you won’t let me.”

“Because this isn’t your fight, Levi.” She finally looked up at him, at this small and grumpy man that took so much of his time to help her useless self even though he had no obligation to. “This is my cross to bear. I’ll live with it until I don’t have to, and then I’ll make a better life for myself.”

His coffee arrived and they fell silent as he took careful sips. Steam swirled up from the small white cup. Eventually, Levi set the cup down and sighed. “How do you expect to leave him straight after school? You’ll need a job.”

“I already have a job. I’ve been saving up.” She shifted on the seat, uncomfortable. “It’ll do. Shit, even if I have to sleep on a fucking bench in the park I would. Rather that than under his boot, right?” She chuckled darkly. “Or maybe I should just walk in front of a truck. Save us all the headache.”

Levi visibly reacted to her dark thoughts. She was never usually this honest and open with him, but she hadn’t been beaten quite this badly in a long while and it opened up all sorts of psychological wounds.  Everything fucking hurt, from her body to her heart and she just wanted to one day stop hurting, be it from death or anything else.

“Don’t you dare hurt yourself,” Levi said sternly. “You have a lot to live for. You’re still so young.”

Ymir felt ashamed for letting it slip. Levi went through enough when it concerned her. He always gathered whatever work she had missed and gave it to her so that she could complete assignments and retake tests and study, and she only ever repaid him with a shitty attitude. She absolutely did not deserve his kindness, but there was just something entirely selfish in her that wouldn’t allow herself to get rid of him for good. She kept him around just enough to help where she needed it, but never where it truly mattered.

“Yeah, sorry.”

Levi drank his coffee in silence then, so Ymir started to go through the work she had missed. Some of it was in advance, but Levi knew that she wouldn’t give anything to anyone else. No one at school really knew, but she actually had pretty good marks. Maybe if she was lucky, she could even get a scholarship somewhere. But what she really wanted was to just get a job and move where he couldn’t find her.

“I’m always here for you,” Levi told her gently. “Even if you just need someone to clean you up, or someone to vent to. I’m here. I promised you that I wouldn’t tell anyone, Ymir, but you must know that it’s taking a toll. I’m watching you waste away and one day I might watch you get lowered into the ground, knowing I could have prevented it.”

He was right. Pain stabbed her right in the chest, but she didn’t say anything—couldn’t. Shameful tears slid down her cheeks and plopped against her jacket. She couldn’t stop them, even when Levi noticed and his expression crumbled.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered brokenly. _For being alive, for burdening you with this._

“You have absolutely nothing to apologise for. I understand it isn’t that easy. But I am here, because I _get it_ , Ymir. Trust me, I do.”

They shared a meaningful glance, Ymir realizing with a bit of horror what he meant. His expression was incredibly grim, but then he threw money on the table and stood.

“Order something to eat,” he told her, avoiding her gaze then. “I’d rather not have you die of starvation in my class.”

And just like that, he left. Ymir watched him go and wished desperately that she had the courage to call him back and to let him call someone, anyone, about her father. But whenever she entertained that idea, she remembered the one time she had been foolish enough to reach for help. She had almost died that night. If she did something like that again and it backfired, he would kill her.

Ymir wanted to die, sure, but she would be fucked if she let it happen by his hand. She would never give him the satisfaction.

XxX

They sat in Historia’s car in the school parking lot, not talking but not sitting in comfortable silence either. Historia was tapping away at her phone, but even just that small action conveyed the extreme amount of annoyance she felt. Hitch sat in the passenger seat beside her, staring out the window with a bored look on her face. Mina was in the back seat, visibly uncomfortable but unsure what to say.

Historia sighed. “Should I just drop you guys off?” she asked them. “I feel like we can reschedule this study session.”

Hitch turned her head to look at her. “I mean, you’re the one being so grumpy.”

“I’m _not_ grumpy.”

“You say, in the most annoyed voice.”

Historia threw her phone into her bag and huffed. “I’m just not feeling it today, okay Hitch? Back off.”

“Whoa, girls, no fighting,” Mina interjected quickly. “Please? Hitch, Historia has been down all week. You know this. Historia, Hitch is worried about you.”

Historia avoided looking at both of them. She sighed aloud. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Do you finally want to talk about it?” Hitch asked her gently. She seemed genuinely worried, and it greatly puzzled Historia.

“No, I just…” she trailed off and stared out of the window. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. The reason her mood had been so shit was the fact that Ymir had been absent the entire fucking week. After the party last weekend and their insane night in Historia’s room, she had been so amped up for a fiery, dramatic encounter at school. Blackmail video or no, Historia still wanted to verbally rip into her in front of everyone.

But no, Ymir had to stay out of school the whole fucking week. Historia’s mood soured instantly. Part of her wondered if Ymir was doing it on purpose just to irritate her, but she knew that was ridiculous. She was narcissistic, but not stupid. Ymir didn’t necessarily do things just because of _her_ , as much as her libido wished for it.

“You just?” Hitch prompted.

She couldn’t get out of this. “My parents got home yesterday. They fought again or something, and things have just been off since the weekend.”

Understanding filled Hitch’s eyes, and she seemed to relax slightly with the explanation. Historia wondered if Hitch actually cared about her, and if she did, why.

“That sucks, His. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” Historia sighed. “Can I drop you two off then?”

“At my place,” Mina answered. “We’re going to binge the new Lucifer season. Tom Ellis is my new daddy.”

Despite her mood, Mina’s comment made her laugh. She shook her head and shared a look with Hitch, who just rolled her eyes, and drove them away from school towards Mina’s. She smiled and waved at them as they headed up to Mina’s door, and then her expression reverted to blankness and she drove home in silence.

Her parents’ cars were in the driveway when she parked her car in front of the massive stairs that led up to the large wooden doors. She grabbed her bag and headed inside, stomach twisting with mild anxiety. Her parents weren’t really that bad, just very… absent. She hadn’t been lying about that.

When she was inside, she heard her father in his downstairs study shouting over the phone. His wife—not Historia’s actual mother—was striding down the stairs with her phone to her ear.

“Historia,” Angelica greeted her distractedly. “Don’t bother your father, work has him upset again.” She returned to her call and breezed right past Historia, not even bothering to ask how her day had been or what she’d gotten up to in the entire month they had been away.

Historia had five siblings. Her brothers, Urklyn, Dirk and Abel, and then her two sisters, Frieda and Florian. In order of oldest to youngest, it was: Frieda, Urklyn, Dirk, Florian, Abel and then Historia at the very bottom, a whopping ten years younger than her youngest sibling. As a result, all of her siblings had moved out and started families of their own, and Historia barely even saw them. Rod was her actual father, but she hadn’t met him until she was 7 and back then it had been under extreme circumstances. Angelica had been a good stand in mother at first, but the both of them had reverted to their true selves: selfish, absent, incompetent parents.

Rolling her eyes, Historia went to her room. It was untouched and just as she had left it, and she immediately relaxed when the door closed behind her. She glanced briefly at the bed, the memory of Ymir assaulting her, but she refused to let herself get lost in it again and instead grabbed her laptop off her desk and then collapsed on her soft couch by her window. Her room was in the corner of the mansion, so two whole sides were floor to ceiling windows in place of walls, and she decided to keep the blinds up as she sat there and went through her social media.

The yard outside was absolutely beautiful. Rod was fucking obscenely rich, so he owned a huge plot of land that their mansion was built on. Her room overlooked the back of the estate, so Historia always enjoyed sitting on her little couch and staring out at the expanse of trees and grass, at the little river they had running through the property because Angelica thought that was very vegan of her.

Historia lost interest in Instagram very quickly. Facebook was just as boring and she wasn’t in the mood for Tumblr. She lazily tapped on the keys, unsure what to do with herself. She could go out somewhere, but where? And with who? She could go for a walk in the garden since it was so big, she could get lost—and had, once. Abel had run around trying to find her, and he had. She had been sitting beneath one of the trees, sobbing into her knees and Abel had carried her back to the mansion with her crying into his shoulder.

Thinking about her siblings made her depressed. Scratch that, everything made her depressed. The only thing that didn’t was—

Historia huffed. “Where the fuck are you?” she asked aloud. She followed Ymir on insta, but of course she hardly ever posted. Most of her posts were vague images of a vodka bottle or her hand—showing her very long fingers—or a selfie or two. Historia went through her pictures, lingering too long on one of Ymir sitting at a bar, clad in a button up and leather jacket. The air around her looked smoky, probably from cigarettes, and she looked pensively at the camera. Beside her, almost out of frame, sat a man that looked a lot like her.

The picture was pretty fucking depressing, even filtered in black and white, and yet something about it struck Historia in the chest. She couldn’t help herself from zooming in and studying every detail on Ymir’s face. She stared at the freckles and the line of her jaw, and the way the lighting made her eyes seem that much sadder. There was something anguished in her expression, and yet she seemed to be trying to give off an air of not caring. Historia immediately closed her browser, shut her laptop and pulled her phone out.

 **Historia:**  
hey reiner. you work with ymir sometimes, right?

She hit send before her nerves got the best of her, then sat staring at her phone impatiently until Reiner _finally_ looked at his fucking phone.

 **Reiner:**  
hey his! long time no chat. ye I do. what do you need? must I ask her to leave you alone or something?

 **Historia:**  
no nothing like that. do you maybe have her number?

 **Reiner:**  
um, like her cell nr?

 **Historia:**  
no her height, width and length. of course her fucking cell number

 **Reiner:**  
lmao yo why the fuck do you want her number don’t you like despise her

 **Historia:**  
yeah i want to bully her online too

 **Reiner:**  
i love how you just say those things without hesitation

 **Reiner:  
**but yeah sure. i dont hate her but dont tell her i gave her number or she will hit me in the balls

 **Historia: _  
_** like, nut punch you?

 **Reiner:  
**yeah

 **Historia:  
**hmm

 **Reiner:**  
don’t you dare you little demon

 **Historia:**  
fiiine, I wont. so. Her number?

 **Reiner:**  
Yeah sure

 **Reiner:**  
Shared Ymir Fritz

 **Historia:**  
thanks hunty. stay beefy

 **Reiner:**  
no prob hissy. don’t harass her too much, yeah?

 **Historia:**  
do you even know me

With that done, Historia saved her contact and opened a chat. She hovered hesitantly over her screen, not really sure if this was a good idea. Would Ymir read too much into it? Would she correctly guess that Historia was mad at her for skipping school? Historia chewed on her lip during a moment of thought, then decided that life was short and her ability to care even shorter.

 **Historia:**  
hey ymir. reiner gave your number away, so be sure to nut punch him when you can

 **Historia:**  
where the fuck are you, is what I wanted to ask. i was looking forward to insulting your stupid bruised face this week but i had to settle on hitch’s shit hair instead

She knew she was being overly horrible, but her nerves were making her brain slower than usual and she didn’t really know what else to say. Ymir didn’t respond immediately and her phone showed that she had last been online hours ago. She worried that maybe Ymir would ignore her, or take forever to respond, but then she showed as online and Historia’s stomach fluttered when the word ‘typing…’ popped up. The message came through and she smiled without realizing it.

 **Ymir:  
**1 nut punch scheduled for reiner braun as per historia’s special request

 **Ymir:**  
why the fuck are you messaging me

 **Historia:  
**because i can and i do what i want

 **Ymir:**  
sure jan. miss me that much, huh? (;

 **Historia:  
**oh please. like i’d actually miss your depressing ass staring at me all day. i just wanted to know if my fuck partner was still alive, is all

There was a very long pause before Ymir responded again and it made Historia incredibly annoyed.

 **Ymir:  
**aw, you noticed that i stare at you all day? im touched

 **Historia:**  
touched with stupid, yeah

 **Ymir:  
**did you really message me just to be a dick over the phone?

 **Ymir:  
**because i genuinely have better things to do, you know.

 **Historia:**  
like what? do whatever it is you do when you just skip school for a week? ive always wondered actually, how do you get away with that? i don’t mean that in a dick way, like i’m really curious. ive seen levi nearly crucify a kid for being 5 minutes late to class and yet he lets you walk in every time you miss a week or two

 **Ymir:**  
i’m just lucky like that

 **Historia:  
**there has to be more to it than that

 **Historia:**  
oh my god, are you fucking him?

 **Ymir:  
**no im a full lesbian, historia

 **Historia:  
**thank god because I would throw up

 **Ymir:  
**same

 **Historia:  
**why were you gone this week? did you just not feel like it?

Another insanely long pause.

 **Ymir:  
**got injured again. you’ll see tomorrow, since i’m finally allowed back

Historia sat up abruptly on her couch, nearly rocketing her laptop into the ceiling. She would never ever admit that she actually felt concern, but she chalked it up to worry that Ymir had hurt her hands or her mouth, which would put a stop to their sextivities.

 **Historia:  
**what happened? trip again?

 **Ymir:  
**yep. dropped a fucking bottle then tripped and landed face first in it. was the night of the party

 **Historia:**  
damn you have shit luck

 **Ymir:  
**i really do. I mean, you’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?

Historia scoffed, but there was a level of excitement in her gut thanks to their back and forth. She wanted to talk more, really wanted to, but she decided to be _that_ bitch and leave Ymir on unread. She locked her phone, tossed it onto her bed as she left her room to go on that walk she had considered earlier.

The whole time, she wondered what really happened to Ymir.

XxX

 **Historia  
**meet me in the bathroom before class

 _I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,_ Ymir chanted in her head as she entered school grounds and shouldered past people. She heard the whispers about her absence and her return and the cuts on her face.

_Maybe she got into a fight with that one dude again, what was his name, Marcel?_

_Man, she probably got into a cat fight._

_Fought with her dealer._

_Is the dealer and fought with a client._

_Got fucked up during prostitution._

They were always nasty, ignorant whispers, but Ymir ignored them. She didn’t even have the ability to get upset at them, because her emotions were stretched so thin. She felt like she could collapse at any given second and it took so much of her energy to keep herself together long enough to stay an entire day at school. That’s why she bunked some classes or went home early. She just… couldn’t always handle it.

Ymir escaped the staring and the whispers by stumbling into the bathroom and she found Historia waiting impatiently in the stall they had occupied last time. Ymir wordlessly joined her and closed the door behind her. The lock slotted in with a metallic clank, and then they stared at each other.

“You look like shit,” Historia finally said.

 _Ah._ Ymir’s chest fluttered. The accusing look, the unimpressed tone, it was all so familiar and it made her feel a bit stronger. She knew it was fucked up, but that was just her life.

“I feel worse than I look, don’t worry,” she shot back, smirking.

Historia studied her face carefully. She knew they didn’t look like wounds she’d gotten from just falling on glass. Her face had been rubbed in them. The gash along her cheek was pretty bad, too. Maybe Historia had her theories, but she blessedly did not bring them up. In fact, she didn’t speak at all again. Her eyes had a simple command in them, and Ymir was eager to obey.

She dropped her bag and surged forward, capturing Historia’s lips with her own. Historia’s groan was music to her ears and she craved every bit of depravity Historia could give her. Historia grabbed hold of her shirt, accidentally pressing her fist against Ymir’s ribs and a flash of white, hot pain shot through her.

Ymir faltered but did not cry out in pain. Her breath hitched from the force of the pain, but Historia mistook it for pleasure. She tugged Ymir closer, hurting her more, so Ymir grabbed hold of her hands and slammed them roughly against the metal wall. Historia gasped.

“I’m in control,” Ymir growled at her. She nipped hard at her jaw. “I hold all the cards, remember?”

Historia exhaled. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You certainly like it. I mean, you’re here with me.”

They shared a tense look. Historia’s eyes flicked to her cheek then down to her lips. “I guess I am, Ymir. Of all the places—here with you.”

Ymir didn’t want her to talk anymore. She wanted to drown out everything, so she dove back in. She slid her hand into Historia’s panties and fucked her aggressively with three fingers, and as Historia moaned and bucked against her Ymir fought against the extreme pain in her abdomen until Historia came with a soft cry and her teeth at Ymir’s throat.

When they were done, Historia wordlessly left her to fix her hair and makeup in the mirror, and then she strode out of the bathroom and Ymir knew not to follow her. The second the door closed, Ymir collapsed to her knees and vomited into the toilet. The pain was so bad that she felt spots in her vision, so she rifled through her bag and took too many pain pills and just sat on the floor, holding back her tears, face screwed up in pain, until the pills kicked in and she felt the relief of numbness. It took so much energy to get back up, but she eventually did and by that time first period was almost over.  

Ymir stumbled into Levi’s class, mostly high on the pills and too traumatized from the pain to really care. Levi was mid-sentence but he stopped abruptly at her entrance. His eyes were furious when they snapped to her, then they widened when he realized who it was entering his class late.

“Sorry for being late,” Ymir muttered to him, worried that her words sounded a little too slurred.

Levi put his textbook down and strode over to her. He pulled her to the door and took her out, then turned her to face him. Ymir had to lean against the wall because her head was swimming. She forgot how strong the pills were.

“Are you drunk?”

Ymir snorted. “No, I’m not that stupid. I just took some meds for the pain.”

Levi stared at her. “Too many, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Needed it. I can’t…” She gingerly pressed an arm against her middle. “I can’t handle it this time.”

Levi exhaled. “Don’t push yourself. Head to the nurse if it gets too bad. Can you walk to your desk?”

Ymir gave him an amused grin. “Do you want to carry me bridal style? Imagine the rumours that’ll cause.”

He glared at her then stormed back into class, donning a furious expression for the benefit of his students. “Ymir, get to your fucking seat!” he bellowed. “You’re late enough as is.”

Ymir wanted to laugh. She wiped at her wet eyes, took in a shuddering breath and then did as she was told. She ignored all of the eyes as they stared at her walking towards her desk, and she blatantly ignored Historia and her minions. She was walking too slowly and too unbalanced, but she eventually made it to her desk. The moment she sat down the bell rang.

“Alright, I’ll see you all next week. Don’t forget to study over the weekend, and please hand in your assignment on Monday. Don’t do drugs.”

“No promises, Mr Ackerman!” someone in class yelled, and everyone laughed. Levi only gave the guy a hard stare, unimpressed.

Ymir sighed and struggled to her feet. Her eyes were blurry and her head felt like it was in the clouds, but the pain in her ribs had at least left her so she could definitely handle the day. She didn’t look at Levi as she headed to her next class, and by the end of the day the meds had worn off and she was in an absolutely foul mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are eagerly welcomed


	4. seems I've crossed the line again for being nothing more than who I am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Bully - Shinedown

**Ymir  
**hey dude can you please pick me up i don’t feel too well and don’t think i can walk

 **Reiner  
**shit man, you alright? sure thing, on my way now. i’ll be there in 5

 **Ymir  
**i’ll be fine, meathead. thank you

 **Reiner  
**youre welcome lesbian satan

 **Ymir  
**you flatter me

Ymir shook her head in exasperation at the conversation but refused to let herself smile. She was almost home, still ambling slowly and painfully down the street. She figured by the time she got home and gathered her things Reiner would already be there and she wouldn’t need to wait long. Sure enough, as soon as she slid her key into the door Reiner’s car pulled up in her driveway.

“I’m here to kidnap one Ymir Fritz,” Reiner called from his open window. “Violently if need be.”

Ymir shot him an unimpressed look but he laughed anyway. “Give me five minutes.”

“Alrighty tighty.”

She rolled her eyes and hurried inside to dump her school bag and gather her stuff for work. Reiner was whistling cheerfully to a song when she climbed into his car.

“You’re in a good mood,” she told him.

“Yeah, of course, ‘Mir. I’m always good. Why shouldn’t I be?”

 _Because life sucks?_ she wanted to say, but she didn’t. Reiner had the perfect Hollywood life, so he wouldn’t understand. He had two dads that loved the shit out of him, grades to make the sternest parent blush and a body that boys and girls alike envied and wanted. He was their school’s poster boy even though he was actually really decent.

When Ymir had first started high school, she had been hell bent on hating him. But then he had offered her a job at his dads’ swimming club simply because she had looked like she needed the money, and the rest was history.

They drove to the club in silence, Reiner humming softly to the song playing on his radio and Ymir staring emptily out the window. When they pulled into a parking space and Reiner shut the car off, Ymir remembered something.

“I owe you a nut punch.”

Reiner’s eyes widened. “That grade A bitch.” But he laughed. “She promised she wouldn’t tell you.”

Ymir gave him a look. “That was literally her opening line.”

Reiner sighed, shaking his head. “Can’t expect anything more, huh?” They climbed out and Ymir tried her best not to limp. “Why did she want your number anyway?”

Ymir sighed. “Because we’re fucking,” she told him, deadpan.

Reiner paused just outside the glass double doors, his blue eyes comically wide. Ymir stared at him as seriously as she could and then she burst into laughter. Reiner joined her immediately, face flushed.

“Jesus Christ Ymir, when you say things like that so seriously, I almost believe you.”

“You’d seriously believe that Historia would have anything to do with _me_?” _Even though actually, yeah, she would. Often. Intimately and aggressively._

Reiner’s brows furrowed. “More like why you’d want anything to do with _her._ She’s… I wouldn’t really call her mean, but I feel like she’s not really what people think she is, you know?”

“Not really.” _Shit, he’s pretty perceptive._

“And you’re a good person, Ymir,” he told her with his good boy smile. “You deserve a lot better.”

Ymir wanted to laugh at him. Her, a good person? It was so laughable that he immediately saw it on her face. “You’re such a dumb fuck,” she told him.

“I mean it.”

“Me too.”

He sighed at her. “Well, whatever. You can be as mean as you want to, but I know it’s a front. Go and change so we can get started.”

Ymir didn’t argue with him and left for the changing room. Usually she’d don her bikini top and trunks, but since her entire torso was littered in blue and black bruises, that wouldn’t do. She could always make up stories about all her scars, but fresh, violent bruises like that would raise suspicion. Ymir put her bikini on but slipped an old t-shirt over it.

Reiner was already in the pool when she finally joined him. It was the small pool meant for kids, and he was lifting a little boy into the air and making engine noises. There were 9 other kids in the water around them, all splashing water and laughing at Reiner. When they spotted Ymir, they immediately forgot who Reiner was and their little faces split into giant grins.

“Instructor ‘Mir is here!” a girl screamed at the top of her lungs, making everyone besides the other children flinch. How were they even human?

Ymir carefully climbed into the pool and bit down hard on her lip when the kids all tackled her in a hug. “Whoa, careful there monkeys.” She tried to wince playfully, but someone had elbowed her right in the ribs and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Are you okay?” one of the boys, Thomas, asked. “You look like you’re in pain.”

Ymir ruffle his short blonde hair. “I’m perfect, T. Now, who is going to drown first today?”

The kids all laughed and Reiner waded over to let the boy in his arms free. He immediately flew into Ymir’s arms and this time she couldn’t stop the small sound of pain as it dropped from her lips. Luckily the kids didn’t notice, but she caught the double take Reiner did and then the long, careful look he gave her. He didn’t mention it, thankfully, and when he ordered the kids to gather, they all did so obediently. They loved him so it usually didn’t take much to get them to listen to him. Their parents usually wondered how the fuck they did it.

Kids were great.

“Listen monkeys, we’re going to have a new water friend starting today! She’s new in town and real shy, so don’t overwhelm her okay?”

The kids immediately started to shout a million questions at Reiner. Ymir sank down into the water to just relax a bit and watched, curious, as a mother approached them with a little girl clinging to her leg.

“This is Tyler,” Reiner introduced her.

“Hi Tyler!” the kids all chorused together.

Tyler shrank behind her mother. Ymir straightened a little. The mother looked exhausted. Her skin was pale and wrinkled and underneath her eyes sat heavy, dark bags. When she paused right by the edge of the pool with her daughter, Ymir got a good look at her and she felt something cold fill her veins. The mother had faint bruises along her jaw, so faint that one wouldn’t notice them if they didn’t know what they looked like. The mother bent down to whisper something to Tyler, and then she handed her over to Reiner, gave a sad little smile and left. Ymir watched her go.

“Alright, let’s introduce ourselves to Tyler here and then we can all learn how to cannon ball!”

The kids went absolutely nuts. Ymir watched Tyler raptly, saw the way she flinched every time someone shouted, how she stared at Reiner with fear clearly written all over her face. Before the introductions were even over Ymir could tell the poor kid was absolutely panicked, so she sighed, took a shaky breath and then stood.

“Reiner, she’s had enough.” She waded over to them and crouched down by Tyler’s side. “Hi Tyler, my name is Ymir. Would you like to go over to the other pool? Just with me?”

Tyler looked into her eyes, hesitant and scared. Ymir remained there even though her ribs throbbed, and finally Tyler gave her a small nod.

“Can I take your hand?” Ymir asked her.

Again Tyler nodded, but hesitant. Reiner watched them as they climbed out of the pool. “Is she okay?” he asked.

Ymir gave him a smile. “She’ll be fine. Social anxiety is tough to handle this young. Give her time to get used to everything. I’ll take her over there for a bit until she feels better. Will you handle all the animals?”

Thomas made a loud noise of offense when he overheard her, so Ymir stuck her tongue out at him and then he pretended to get mad at her, but immediately burst out laughing and fell backwards into the water. The loud splash made Tyler flinch and nearly trip, but Ymir had a firm grip on her.

“Cool, thanks Ymir. Sorry I didn’t notice.” He looked at Tyler worriedly. “I’m not really… you know…”

Ymir waved him off. “I know.”

Together she and Tyler walked to the deeper pool, not saying a word. When they got there, they climbed onto the highest step and then Ymir let Tyler’s hand go and just sat down in the water. Wordlessly, Tyler joined her. They both stared out over the calm water.

Ymir knew not to say anything. She knew to just leave Tyler alone and let the poor kid calm down and have a fucking second. She seemed to grow less anxious the longer they sat there without any expectation, and before long she started to swish her hands in the water, back and forth. Ymir watched her.

Tyler was thin—too thin. Her bones jutted out against milky white skin and Ymir could see the shy finger of an ugly bruise peeking out of Tyler’s shirt on her back. She clenched her teeth hard. She… she was just a small child!

Rage filled every bit of Ymir’s being. As much as she wanted to do something, she knew she couldn’t. if she tried to ask questions or see the bruise, that would only scare Tyler badly. Ymir was a stranger to her and this place was scary. She needed to get comfortable first, and Ymir vowed to herself that she would do her absolute best to try and get Tyler out of her shell and maybe figure out what was going on.

The hour passed by in a blur. The only sounds were those from Reiner and the kids as he gave them a lesson on how not to drown and various tips on how to swim. Most of the time the kids were teasing him and they went off topic, but that was the fun in it. Ymir simply sat beside Tyler and didn’t say a word, but the lesson had come to an end and Reiner’s feet slapped loudly as he approached them.

“Your mom is here to pick you up, Tyler.”

When he spoke, the sound of his voice made Tyler flinch. She shrank against Ymir’s side and hid her face against her chest.

“It’s okay,” Ymir immediately told her, hesitantly resting a hand on her small shoulder. She flinched at the touch but quickly relaxed. “He won’t hurt you. Neither will I.”

Tyler looked up. Her eyes were swimming with terrified tears. They weren’t for Reiner, Ymir knew. They were for her mother who had returned to take her home—home, to her torment, to _him_. This kid had a _him_ as well.

“Promise?” Tyler asked her in a voice barely above a whisper, croaky from disuse.

Ymir’s heart shattered. “On my life. You are safe here. Will you come again?”

Tyler’s gaze shifted to her mother waiting by the doors, staring anxiously their way. She nodded and then she stood and Ymir helped her dry off. Her mother hadn’t brought a change of clothes so Ymir had to hand her off still damp, and she stared hard at the mother as she did.

“She’s a wonderful kid,” Ymir told her. “I’d love to see her again. We have so much to teach her and swimming can be so therapeutic when they need it.”

The mother swallowed thickly. “I—yes, thank you. I’ll make sure she comes back.” Her eyes studied the bruises at Ymir’s eye, the cuts and gashes. Ymir swallowed. “My name is Veronica. What’s yours?”

“It’s Ymir, mama,” Tyler piped up softly from her side. She smiled up at her mother but it was so small and hesitant. Broken.

Veronica sucked in a breath. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she held it together. Ymir saw her own struggle in them, in the way they hurt but broke themselves apart to keep it all secret. She wanted to tell them that she knew, she _knew,_ damnit, but she couldn’t. Fear and uncertainty gripped her, and she stood there as Veronica led Tyler away and they climbed into a car with a man that looked unimpressed and impatient, and when he lifted his hand Veronica flinched, and then they drove away.

Ymir felt sick.

“So, what was that all about?” Reiner asked her. The other kids were being herded away by their parents who said their thanks as they left.

“Nothing,” Ymir told him. “She’s just a shy kid.”

Reiner didn’t seem like he fully believed her. That wouldn’t do, him being smarter than he looked. “Cool. I’ll leave her to you, then? You both seemed to hit it off. I’d hate to scare her every time she’s here.”

Ymir gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. “You’d scare anyone. You look like an axe murderer.”

He gasped, affronted. “Ymir, that’s mean.”

“Do you even know me,” she shot back. She tried to glare at him, but she couldn’t help but smile. He laughed so hard tears ran down his face.

“You’re such an asshole when you want to be. I swear, sometimes I think I know you and sometimes I don’t. Do you need a ride home?”

Ymir shook her head. “Nah. I’ll sort it out, thank you.”

He gave her a nod and then left to the club office to do some official business stuff, and Ymir changed into her clean clothes. She walked home, suddenly intensely depressed but also completely numb. She couldn’t get Tyler out of her mind and she realized that this was probably what Levi felt all the time since finding out. It made her feel terrible.

But, these things weren’t always so simple. She couldn’t just expect a happy ending. When she got home, she headed into her room and collapsed on the bed, and then went to sleep. She hoped she would sleep the weekend away, but she always woke up eventually.

XxX

It was disturbing how much Ymir came to depend on Historia’s booty calls. Weeks passed by after their fateful first fuck, and still they tore into each other like lions at a fresh kill. Nothing ever went deep—except Ymir’s fingers maybe—and they treated each other like dirt.

Ymir didn’t want it any other way.

They mostly stayed out of each other’s lane, but whenever they accidentally walked the same path Historia always verbally harassed her. Ymir hadn’t used the video yet, she was saving it for something sweet and satisfying, but sometimes when Historia commented on her looks or her personality and her little minions giggled, she liked to take her phone out and play with it and she fully enjoyed the mild panic on Historia’s face. She would wink at Historia then and leave, and Historia would glare hard at her until she went into class.

Her father hadn’t hit her badly again after that. A slap here and there and once he had flicked his burning cigarette into her face, but other than that he kept his anger either locked down or directed elsewhere. Maybe he had realized he’d gone overboard last time. Ymir’s face was fully healed but the gash on her cheek had scarred badly and it still ached a bit when she smiled or her skin pulled. Her ribs and stomach were healed as well, so she could fully rail into Historia whenever she wanted without doubling over in pain.

It was night time and Ymir was in bed, staring in boredom up at her ceiling. Her father wasn’t home. It was Saturday night and he usually spent his weekends somewhere else. Ymir knew it wasn’t work, but she never really wondered where he went. It was a blessing to her that he left at all. It gave her a break from the constant anxiety and fear of being in the same house as him.

Ymir sighed. She thought about Historia, about how they had snuck into the gym storeroom during last period and how she had eaten Historia out so good she’d yelled and the school janitor had almost caught them to investigate the noise. They had both scrambled to right their clothes and flee, holding hands and laughing. When they’d stopped, their hands dropped and their smiles fell away.

Ymir remembered how Historia tasted. She remembered the way her thighs quivered, how her hips jogged with every brush over her clit. It wasn’t all that big, always hidden beneath its hood, but it was certainly sensitive. One day Ymir really wanted to try orgasm denial.

A low throb went through her. She wanted to tie Historia up and absolutely torment her. Ymir closed her eyes and pictured it, having Historia tied to her own bed, blindfolded and helpless. She would be absolutely naked, her beautiful breasts heaving and capped by hard pink nipples. Ymir would draw them between her lips, suckle on them as Historia panted, and then bite down hard.

Ymir took a shuddering breath. She let her hand slide down into her boxers to between her legs, where she felt her own wetness.

She imagined every little thing she would do, every torture that would leave Historia shivering and dripping. Her pussy would be swollen and red and she would be absolutely wild with want. Ymir imagined Historia losing her mind, swearing and threatening and then begging for her life, begging for Ymir inside of her or on her and with a soft cry, Ymir brought herself to orgasm.

The arousal was intense, still remaining even after the mild climax, but Ymir didn’t feel up to doing it again. She let the fantasy float away and turned onto her side, breathing a little hard.

“Why do you do this to me?” she asked out loud, into her lonely room in the darkness.

 **Historia  
**come over to my house, my parents aren’t home

Ymir startled when her phone vibrated, then laughed loudly at Historia’s text. Had Historia been thinking about her too?

 **Ymir  
**it’s late dude

 **Historia  
**i’ll order an uber for you

 **Ymir  
**are you horny

 **Historia  
**why not come over and see for yourself?

 **Ymir  
**i dunno i just jacked off so i’m feeling good

She really wasn’t. She was still worked up and having Historia reach out to her so suddenly and so late made her throb with need, knowing Historia needed her too.

 **Historia  
**are you really saying no to sex

 **Ymir  
**no

 **Ymir  
**of course not

 **Historia  
**your address, jackass?

 **Ymir  
**number 1 smith

 **Historia  
**uber is ordered (: he’s like 3 minutes away

“Shit!”

Ymir bolted out of bed and ran around to get dressed. She slipped into her favourite pair of skinny jeans that emphasized how long her legs were and a plain black tank top. With that she put her black boots and her leather jacket on, and then she swept a brush through her hair, put some of her body spray on and rushed outside to the car waiting in front of her house.

“Ymir?” the man inside asked.

“That’ll be me.”

“Hi, I’m Simon. I’ll be your ride. Hope in.”

She did so, behind him.

 **Ymir  
**in the uber. if i don’t show up then this mans abducted and murdered me

 **Historia  
**pfft okay Ymir. when you get to the gate just use the intercom and i’ll open for you

 **Ymir  
**as you want, mistress historia

The ride was quiet. Thankfully the driver wasn’t interested in speaking or listening to music. He drove carefully and at the speed limit, and in twenty minutes he parked in front of Historia’s incredibly rich looking mansion. He gave a low whistle.

“Damn,” he said.

Ymir hopped out the car. “Thanks, Simon. Drive safely.”

“Thank you, Ymir. Have a good evening.”

He drove away and Ymir pressed a button on the intercom. The massive iron gates swung open and she started the long walk down the driveway to the front door. She took the steps two at a time and wondered how much money someone had to make to own an actual estate. It was nuts.

Historia answered after Ymir banged her fist against the door. Ymir wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but Historia without makeup, her hair down and wearing comfortable but plain clothes was not it. When she lifted a brow, Historia gave her a look.

“I feel overdressed,” Ymir told her, smirking.

“That won’t be a problem soon. Come inside, Ymir.”

Historia beckoned her in and Ymir stepped through. Her eyes roamed over the massive interior as Historia shut the door. “Oh I certainly will come inside soon,” she supplied distractedly.

Historia sighed. “You think you’re funny, but you’re not.”

“What, by your standards?” Ymir looked back at her and snorted. “By mine I’m fucking hilarious.”

Historia grinned at her mischievously. She stepped right into Ymir’s personal space, suddenly shoved her against the nearest wall and then grabbed the edges of her jacket to pull her in close. “Thank god I’m not fucking you for your humour.”

Ymir’s heart shot into her throat and the low thrum of arousal she’d felt the whole trip here raged into an inferno. Ymir grabbed Historia’s wrists and turned them around, slamming Historia into the wall. She pushed one leg between Historia’s, roughly grinding against her clothed pussy, and then chuckled against her ear.

“Certainly not for my humour,” she husked. “But definitely because you can’t resist me.”

Historia’s hips moved and she started to grind down on Ymir’s leg. She moaned openly and the sound of it made Ymir’s entire body hot. “Oh? But here you are, all dressed up for me.”

Ymir felt her face flush. “Only the best for her majesty.”

Historia continued slowly grinding against her leg, breaths coming out in short puffs. She grabbed hold of Ymir’s face and lifted it, capturing her lips. Ymir couldn’t stop herself from groaning into Historia’s mouth. Kissing her was the best thing Ymir had ever experienced. It was even better than the sex. It was all tongue and teeth and war, and it made Ymir ache in the worst way. They kissed and Ymir took hold of Historia’s hips and helped her grind hard, and then she cried out as she came and Ymir pulled back, smug.

Historia looked up at her with beautiful blue eyes. She narrowed them. “Get off me.” She shoved Ymir away and brushed her hair back. “Do you want to drink something?”

Ymir lifted a brow.  She hadn’t expected that. Honestly, she had expected to have to sneak into Historia’s room via her window and then immediately fuck her. Not… this. “Uh, sure.”

Historia turned and left her standing there. Ymir only watched her leave until she regained her sensed and followed. They went into a massive, expensively decked out kitchen where Historia grabbed two whiskey glasses and then attempted to reach a bottle of vodka on a high shelf. She _almost_ reached, but not quite so Ymir decided to help. She pressed against Historia’s back, easily reached over her and plucked the bottle from the shelf.

“I’m here, so you can ask.”

Historia snatched the bottle out of her hand with a huff. “But I didn’t, Ymir.” She rolled her eyes and walked over to the glasses. Ymir watched her, puzzled by this hot and cold attitude she was getting. Historia offering drinks meant she wanted to do more than just fuck, which must have meant something, surely. But the way she was acting it was as if Ymir had requested this meet up and Ymir was wasting her time. It annoyed her.

“Why’d you even invite me over?” she ground out.

Historia gave her a look but didn’t answer. The silence around them was almost unnerving. Ymir never realized it when she first arrived, but the place was definitely empty. All the lights were off and there wasn’t a single sound besides Historia assembling their drinks. When she was done, she held the bottle out to Ymir who returned it to its perch.

“Here.” She handed a glass over. “Let’s go to my room.”

Together they wordlessly left the kitchen and headed to the second floor. Ymir remembered Historia’s room from the party a while back, but the whole house looked different like this. It was devoid of anything and it seemed bleak and empty without a throng of drunk teenagers and terrible pop music blasting from the speakers. Something about this made Ymir feel depressed again.

Historia’s room seemed different, too. A single lamp was on, casting a dim orange glow over her room. Her blinds were up too—they hadn’t been last time—and Ymir’s mouth nearly hung open when she saw the view outside. The moon was full that night and it lit the yard in a silver glow. Historia plopped down on a couch by the window and Ymir joined her. They sat there in silence, drinking their drinks and not saying anything. The whole thing was starting to tick Ymir off, so she downed her entire drink, dropped the glass onto the floor and then stretched her legs and arms.

“This is fucking depressing,” she said.

She glanced casually at Historia, but she paused. Historia was staring down at her drink, her small hand clasping the glass tightly. She looked… sad. Ymir swallowed.

XxX

Historia honestly didn’t know what she was doing. Inviting Ymir over had been a huge mistake, but it was too late to admit that. She was an asshole but she wouldn’t be that cruel as to kick her out immediately after getting her all the way over here. But it just… she didn’t know.

“Life is depressing,” she finally responded, her voice empty of all emotion. Ymir was all stretched out on her couch and Historia studied her long, long legs and those heavy boots, and she throbbed. Even through the shitty thoughts and the depression, seeing Ymir there, having her so near, made Historia _feel_.

“Well duh,” Ymir snorted.

“Why did you even come here?”

Ymir gave her a puzzled look. “You asked me to.”

Historia finished her drink off and put her glass on a nearby table. She could already feel a slight buzz—she’d made her drink very strong. “No, I mean—Yeah, I asked you to, but it’s late and you probably had stuff to do. Do your parents even know you’re out?”

Ymir’s expression hardened and Historia realized she had just touched on a very sensitive topic. That aroused curiosity in her. “Do yours know I’m here?” she shot back instead of answering.

Historia looked away and laughed. Of course. They both had their private lives, their secrets. It was unfair of her to demand to know. When she looked back and caught Ymir glaring at her, something in her chest constricted. Maybe…

“All of my siblings moved out a long time ago and my parents travel for their jobs a lot. I’ve been alone for two weeks now.”

She watched curiously as Ymir listened. She looked uncomfortable then, like she hadn’t wanted to know that. Historia wondered if she would get something private back, but all Ymir did was look away and focus on the window. Like this, in the shallow light, Ymir looked absolutely delicious. She always had a tired look about her, but her eyes were almost golden and the line of her jaw was cutting. The injuries from weeks ago were gone, leaving just her scarred and freckled skin.

 _I need her,_ Historia thought suddenly and frantically. The need was building—created by nights and nights of loneliness, of not knowing how to share herself with others, to get her parents to stay. Running on pure adrenalin and arousal, Historia climbed onto Ymir’s lap and pulled her shirt off. She enjoyed the wide-eyed look Ymir gave her.

“Maybe we should stop talking,” Historia told her. “And do what you came here to do.”

Ymir looked up at her. There was a little furrow between her brows, like she was almost about to say something she shouldn’t, but then she didn’t. Instead she surged forward and their tongues met in a hard, hungry kiss. Ymir was always like this—hot and overwhelming. Her lips were the softest Historia had ever kissed and yet they bruised her. The sharp edges of Ymir’s teeth cut her lips and her tongue when they went too hard, and Ymir’s tongue invaded her mouth aggressively. Her taste and her smell and the feel of her drove Historia fucking wild. No one had ever made her this needy before, this vulnerable and horny.

Ymir chuckled against her mouth and her hands slid underneath Historia’s bra. Her touch wasn’t gentle as she played with her breasts, but it made Historia moan. “Such fancy lingerie, just for me?” Ymir asked against her lips. “I’m touched.”

Historia’s hands clenched into fists. “Touch me before I decide I’m done with you,” she growled.

Ymir didn’t like that. Suddenly Historia was on her back on the couch and Ymir had a hand around her throat. Warm lips caressed the line of her shoulder and to the bite mark that had scarred. Ymir stopped abruptly, her hand disappearing. She sat up and stared down at the scar with wide eyes.

“It scarred,” she stated obviously. “Historia, I’m… shit, I’m sorry.”

Historia stared at her in confusion. “You’re sorry?” She laughed long and loud as Ymir stared at her. “Not my first scar, Ymir. And besides, I asked for this one.” She roughly pulled Ymir down and lifted her hips, bucking up into her. “Stop pretending to care and ruin me.”

Ymir’s breath hitched. “Ruin you? Is that all you ever want?”

Historia sneered at her. She didn’t want this, the suddenly worried look in Ymir’s eyes, like there was something more here. She didn’t want apologies and tenderness, she wanted Ymir to hurt her. She wanted to hurt Ymir in turn and for them both to leave bleeding.

“It’s all you’re good for,” she replied snidely.

Historia saw the moment her comment genuinely hurt. Ymir backed up slightly like the words had physically pushed her back, and then her expression darkened dangerously and she looked more like she had the first time they had done this. That’s exactly what Historia wanted, so when Ymir kissed her again and it hurt, and Ymir shoved a hand down her pants and pushed three fingers inside of her, she welcomed the violence of it. She drowned in the attempt to hurt her, let the tendrils of pain mingle in with the mindless pleasure.

Ymir fucked her hard and fast. Her kiss was brutal and her hand at Historia’s hip was bruising, but Historia bucked into her, groaned in shameless desire and kissed back with as much fire as she could. The orgasm started to rush at her, dangerous and electrifying and her moaning increased in pitch the nearer she came to climax. A second before she finally felt that satisfying leap, Ymir pulled out and away from her and the orgasm tapered off. Historia gasped out a disappointed groan.

“What are you doing?” she nearly yelled.

Ymir picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She kicked her shoes off, slid her pants down and shrugged out of her jacket. Historia stared at her angrily as she did.

“Whatever I fucking want,” Ymir growled at her. She crawled over and atop her body and then roughly tugged her pants down. Historia’s breasts bounced helplessly as Ymir ripped her panties off. When Ymir looked between her legs, she whistled. “You’re fucking horny.”

Historia glared at her. “Of course I fucking am, you stupid jackass.”

Ymir’s eyes cut into her. “Is that what you really think of me?”

Historia gave her a sweet smile. “Of course, Ymir. What else is there?”

Ymir scoffed. “I don’t understand you, Historia.”

“I never asked for your fucking understanding.”

Ymir studied her face for a long, silent second. Historia could feel herself shivering from the force of her arousal. She was dripping down onto her blanket and her pussy felt raw, and she so desperately needed to feel _something_ on her aching clit. Finally, face suddenly stony, Ymir removed her shirt and sports bra.

Historia inhaled sharply. Ymir was left in just her boxers, but she didn’t make a move to remove them. Historia’s eyes roamed all over Ymir’s revealed skin, at the multitude of scars that crisscrossed all over her chest and stomach. There was a slightly discoloured bruise at her ribs and it looked exactly like a shoeprint. This was her first time seeing Ymir’s body, and she realized starkly that she didn’t know Ymir at all.

Ymir looked absolutely livid. She looked like she would rather slap Historia hard instead of pleasuring her. An odd feeling of guilt swept through Historia but she stamped it out before she could even truly feel it. Both of them knew what this was. They weren’t here to treat each other like people. They were here to use and abuse each other.

Despite everything, seeing Ymir like this made Historia’s chest tight and her heart pound and she was absolutely fucking _dripping_ wet. Ymir wordlessly scooted closer and gripped Historia’s legs, spreading them wide. When her legs pressed to the back of Historia’s thighs, she inhaled sharply and swallowed.

“Wait.”

Ymir paused and stared at her, as if she was considering continuing anyway. Before she did anything else, Historia pointed at a box standing on her table by the couch. “I got something for you.”

Ymir looked to where she pointed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Just go and open it, Ymir.”

Exasperated, Ymir went over to it and ripped the lid off the box. Her entire body froze as she stared down at the object within, and then she sent Historia a smouldering look that made her burn inside and out.

“Put it on,” she breathed out desperately. “And use me.”

Ymir visibly swallowed. She stared down into the box for a while, then finally pulled the strap and the flesh coloured cock out. Historia watched her slip her boxers off and put it on, then climb back into her boxers. She pulled the cock out the slit in the front, since she clearly wore men’s boxers. Historia watched Ymir’s back muscles as she worked and she was sure she’d grown even wetter.

Ymir returned to her, the cock standing up between her legs. It was hotter than Historia thought it would be and she honestly felt like she couldn’t breathe from the arousal alone.

“Is this why you wanted me over?” Ymir growled angrily. “To have me fuck you with this?”

Historia whimpered. Maybe she would have been embarrassed before, but she couldn’t think properly anymore. Seeing Ymir wearing it had completely ruined her more than the fantasies had.

“Yes,” she gasped out.

Ymir studied her face. She did what she had before, spread Historia’s legs and scooted close. This time she had the cock between them. Historia was pleased to note that it matched Ymir’s skin colour perfectly. It looked so real, with its slightly reddened head and the bulging veins. Ymir leaned forward and her fingertips caressed Historia’s cheek. She closed her eyes, chest heaving with heavy breaths as she imagined everything Ymir would do to her. Ymir’s fingers ran through her hair and closed around the back of her neck, and then her eyes flew open when she was pulled forward suddenly and then the cock was in her face, pressed against her lips.

“Suck me,” Ymir told her sternly.

Historia stared up at Ymir. Her cheeks burnt harshly in shame but there was no doubt that she liked this. Instead of giving a sarcastic response like Ymir expected, or refusing, she eagerly slid the cock into her mouth and sucked at the head. Ymir’s eyes grew lidded as she stared down at her. Historia enjoyed the look on her face, the conflict and the arousal. She hadn’t expected this to really happen and yet she was clearly enjoying it. Historia closed her eyes and sucked the cock like it was real, like she could devour Ymir’s soul through it. She took it down her throat and tongued the underside and felt her own saliva slide down the toy and her chin. When she finally opened her eyes to look at Ymir and popped the hard shaft from her wet lips, Ymir looked devastated.

“Did you like that?” Historia asked her thickly. “Did you like watching me suck your cock?” She almost said _daddy_ , but that wasn’t a kink she was sure she could share quite yet. The last thing she wanted was for Ymir to storm out, disgusted by her. She would never forgive herself. If she didn’t get fucked hard, soon, she would probably dissolve into a puddle.

Ymir swallowed. Her throat bobbed with the movement. Her jaw muscles bunched up, and then she grabbed hold of Historia and roughly flipped her around. Ymir shoved her face into the mattress and held her there, and then the tip of the cock pressed against her soaked entrance and Historia’s pussy pulsed.

“Yes,” she groaned. She managed to turn her face so that she could at least breathe. “I need you inside of me, Ymir,” she cried out. Tears of desperation pressed against her eyes. “Please.”

Ymir breathed loudly. The hand she had keeping Historia down slid back, nails scraping along Historia’s spine until eventually she gripped her hip. With the other hand she guided the toy, and then she started to push inside. Historia was so extremely worked up that there was no resistance at all, and she felt the satisfying burn of pleasure as Ymir slid the large toy inside of her. She had ordered one she knew would be too big, because she knew when they used it, she would be more than capable of taking it. And oh, did Ymir give it.

“You’re so filthy,” Ymir finally spoke, her voice quivering. “You’re fucking dripping everywhere. Imagine what your friends would think if they saw you, Historia.” She chuckled under her breath and gave one sharp snap of her hips. The toy split Historia apart and she cried out when Ymir’s skin pressed to her own. She hadn’t known she could take all of it.

“Shut up,” she cried out, face burning.

“I never realized you were so depraved,” Ymir continued. She pulled back, sliding the toy out halfway and then thrust back in hard. Historia’s face pressed harshly into her mattress and she squeezed her eyes shut. Ymir was going agonizingly slow. “So desperate and needy.”

Ymir pulled out, slammed in. There was a wet squelch with every thrust and the slap of their skin as Ymir bottomed out. Historia could hear every breath she gasped out, every little groan she made. She wondered what she looked like, stretched around the cock. She wondered if the sight of it made Ymir want to fall apart.

“Please,” Historia gasped out. “Please Ymir.”

Ymir paused in her slow thrusting. Historia sobbed. “Please what, slut?”

The word, the insult, it was _sharp_ as Historia’s body felt it. The strongest wave of arousal she had ever felt swept right through her and she swore she nearly came just from that. She could feel herself clutching at the toy.

“Please make me come, Ymir. Please, for fuck sake.”

Ymir grunted and then she started to move her hips again. She moved without any regard for Historia’s pleasure. She didn’t angle at all, didn’t follow up whenever she hit a perfect spot. Her motions were completely self-serving, and they made Historia burn. She knew she was selfish for enjoying this, for liking the way Ymir used her body. But what else was there?

Ymir grabbed her hair and pulled hard, forcing Historia to lift herself onto her hands and knees. She picked up the pace then, pounding into her so hard it hurt. Ymir bent forward and her teeth sank gently into Historia’s shoulder, and Historia was utterly overwhelmed by everything—by Ymir’s warm body pressed to hers, by the too big cock spreading her pussy wide, by the teeth and lips at her skin and the strong hand gripping her hip. It was all just too much, and Historia broke apart.

She screamed as she came violently. Ymir continued to fuck her, sliding in and out slower and slower as Historia shook and convulsed, mouth open, eyes screwed shut. Historia didn’t care what she looked like or sounded like, she only cared about the furious tension finally snapping, about the waves of heat and pleasure as they went through her and then dissipated. When she was done, she slumped forward and Ymir let her.

She wasn’t allowed to rest for long, though. Ymir pulled out and Historia sobbed softly at the loss, but then she was flipped over again, her body nearly paralyzed, and Ymir dropped down on top of her. She immediately wrapped her arms around Ymir, and then she was filled again, Ymir entering her suddenly and without warning.

“Again,” Ymir panted against her ear, sounding crazed herself. “I’m not done.”

Historia felt broken apart and raw, but she let Ymir have at her. She wrapped her legs around Ymir’s waist, surprised and delighted to feel bare skin instead of fabric, and sat back for the ride. It was less violent this time, less aggressive. Ymir’s face pressed into her shoulder and she grunted softly with every thrust. The toy was designed to rub harshly against the wearer’s clit, so she was most certainly enjoying the motion just as much.

Before long, despite how hard she had come, Historia started to feel again. She started to enjoy the stretch, the glide of it inside of her. She started to meet Ymir halfway, lifting her hips to sink the toy in faster, and then her breasts were bouncing softly as Ymir moved. When Ymir stopped thrusting her body seized and she groaned softly, and Historia knew she had come.

A strange, warm sensation filled Historia as Ymir came shuddering above her.

“Fuck,” Ymir muttered softly against her skin.

Historia squeezed her thighs against Ymir’s hips. Ymir completely collapsed against her, the toy still deep inside. Despite her size, she wasn’t too heavy and Historia merely held her. It was something she had never allowed herself to do—ever—but she couldn’t bring herself to move her arms. Ymir’s face was beside hers on the pillow, and her breaths warned Historia’s throat. They were both sweaty and hot, but they cooled down quickly.

After what felt like ages, Ymir lifted herself and then they were kissing. It was… slow this time, almost soft. There was no malice in it. It was simply… appreciative. They both melted into the kiss and into each other, but it never went anywhere else. They were too exhausted and Historia felt too sore inside. When they pulled away from each other’s lips, they both averted their eyes. Ymir climbed off of her and slid the toy out with a wet pop.

“Jesus Christ,” Ymir commented under her breath. “How did you even take the whole thing?”

Historia laughed at her expression. “I was horny enough.”

Ymir unbuckled the strap and took it off. She set it aside on the bedside able, and then she hovered awkwardly on her heels and stared at the wall.

“Would you like to have a shower?” Historia asked her. Ymir met her gaze.

“Sure.”

She stood and took Ymir’s hand. Neither of them said anything and Ymir didn’t pull away. She had her own private bathroom, much to Ymir’s surprise, and Historia dimmed the lights. She got the shower going and got the temperature just right, and then she pulled Ymir under the hot spray with her.

“Your bathroom is bigger than my house,” Ymir told her in a voice of awe.

Historia smirked. “It’s bigger than most houses, actually.”

Ymir stared at her. “What the fuck does all these do?” She gestured at the multitude of knobs along the wall. Without waiting for an answer, she pressed one, and then she gasped when the single jet of water turned into many. Water started to spray them from all sides. Ymir immediately slapped the button and the water went back to coming out of a single head above them.

“What the fuck?”

Historia couldn’t hold her laughter back. “You’re such a kid,” she teased. “It’s just a shower.”

“This is a crazy rich person’s shower,” Ymir shot back. It wasn’t’ even said snidely.

Historia couldn’t name the emotion that warmed her chest, and she didn’t want to. “Okay, street urchin. I’m going to wash myself and you can do whatever it is you do in a shower.” She did exactly that and ran her sponge over her body. She felt bruised and used, and she hoped there would be no marks where people would see. Ymir used her shower gel and shampoo without asking and went about cleaning herself too. Historia snuck looks over her shoulder, wondering where all of the many scars came from. There were bad ones on her back, large and long along the length of it. It certainly wasn’t the result of an accident. It all seemed too… often.

Ymir caught her staring. She grinned smugly and strode over, backing Historia up until she was pressed to the wall.

“See something you like?” she purred.

Historia swallowed. Her nipples hardened and her clit twitched. How the fuck did her body react like that again after the intense fucking she had just endured? “Maybe,” she answered.

Ymir kissed her throat, trailing down to her chest. Her hands came up and cupped her breasts, but her touch was intimate and gentle. It unnerved Historia, but she didn’t want it to stop and she didn’t want to bring attention to it. Ymir’s tongue lavished across her slick skin until she was down on her knees, her teeth scraping over the skin just below Historia’s navel.

“Do you want it?” Ymir asked her suddenly, staring up from her knees. Her hair was slicked back and her eyes looked incredibly alive. Historia noticed slight flecks of green in her irises. She ached badly, but she nodded anyway.

Ymir’s mouth pressed to her wet flesh, and her tongue flicked over Historia’s suddenly engorged clit. Her head fell back against the wall and she released a soft moan. It wasn’t hard or aggressive, but it was fast. Ymir didn’t penetrate her at all or even go near her entrance, she just flicked her tongue over her clit and suckled on it, and then Historia came gently in her mouth, hips rocking and lips parted. When she was done, she opened her eyes and Ymir stood up.

“There,” Ymir said, giving her a half-smile. “Good?”

Historia’s mouth had gone completely dry. Her heart was thundering hard in her chest despite how soft and slow her orgasm had been. Something in her stomach twisted tightly, but she ignored the feeling. She didn’t want to analyse it, and trusted it to disappear once this was all over.

She pulled Ymir down and kissed her, then bit her lower lip roughly as she pulled away. “So good,” she said.

Ymir seemed very pleased by that. They left the bathroom after drying themselves and dressed. As Ymir started to slip back into her jeans, Historia considered something curiously.

“Ymir, it’s late.”

Ymir gave her a look like she had said something absurd. “Yeah, I know.”

Historia rolled her eyes. “So, stay over.”

Ymir’s brows flew into her hairline. “How romantic of you,” she taunted. “Can’t bear to be without my touch?”

Historia glared at her. “Fine, fuck off in the dark then. See if I care.” She looked out her window, hurt but not willing to show it.

Ymir sighed loudly. “Staying sounds preferable, actually. I live like, twenty minutes away. I’d be creeped out taking an uber so late. Or god forbid, walking.”

Something light surged in Historia’s chest. “My bed is pretty big. You can sleep with me.”

Ymir gave her a naughty grin. “I’ve already slept with you multiple times.”

Historia scoffed and threw a pillow right into Ymir’s face. “Actual sleep, you perverted animal.”

Ymir took the pillow with her and climbed under the blanket. She gave Historia a look. “I’d say you’re a perverted animal too,” she husked. She slid closer and leaned down to speak against Historia’s ear. “The way you took my big cock inside of you. You were such a good girl.”

Historia’s nipples stiffened against her shirt. Even still, after all that? How the fuck?

“What, do you want me to call you daddy?” she shot back, carefully testing but masking it as an insult.

Ymir inhaled sharply, but she pulled away, laughed and then turned her back to Historia. “Goodnight, freak.”

Historia filed that reaction away. She huffed, switched her lamp off and turned around as well. They each slept at different ends of the bed, and the space between them felt like a chasm. Historia wanted for something, but she didn’t really understand what. She fell asleep puzzling over it, and never really figured it out.


	5. You're much too pretty you don't need your mind (just pretend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title Fallen - Seether

Historia distractedly chewed on the end of her pen as she stared across the field. Reiner was telling them about some boring rugby story but she couldn’t bring herself to even tune in. His voice was just a hum of sound at the back of her mind. Eventually, though, he noticed she wasn’t paying attention and so threw his ball at her. It bounced harmlessly off her shoulder but it startled her all the same.

“What the fuck, Reiner?” she asked him, annoyed.

“You were off in dreamland there. What’s up with you guys?”

Historia looked at her friends. Mina was busy on her phone and Hitch was looking just as distracted. “We’re teenagers,” Historia shot back. “We have problems.”

Reiner snorted. “Right.” He saw his group of friends and waved them over enthusiastically. Historia didn’t really dislike him. He was sweet and captain of the rugby team, but everyone had thought the two of them would date because she was the hottest girl. They were still the school’s hottest what if couple but Historia didn’t see it at all. Thinking of dating, though, her thoughts returned to Ymir.

She spotted her sitting across the field on the pavilion, writing something in one of her books. Historia lifted a brow as she stared at her. As far as she could tell, Ymir had no friends. No one approached or spoke to her and she made no effort either, and despite the constant absences she somehow managed to pass and stay in school.

She remembered the weekend; Ymir coming over, using the fuck out of her. She remembered the shower and the disgustingly tender moments, the awkward but nice morning and her chest tightened.

“Sup, Rei,” Marcel greeted as he joined their little group. “And ladies.”

All of them greeted him half-heartedly.

“They have teen angst,” Reiner explained to him, laughing.

Historia tore her eyes away from Ymir’s form in the distance to study Reiner’s friends. Marcel was tall and he had a mean look to him, but Historia knew he was a softie. She’d seen him cry once when someone killed a pigeon. Behind him was his younger brother, a grade 10, Porco. Completing their trio was Pieck, who looked about as uninterested in the whole thing as Historia did.

“Do you guys want to hang here?” Reiner asked them.

“Why?” Pieck asked. “We were heading over to Mr Smith’s office.”

“Can I join you? These three are aging me by ten years.”

Historia gave him a sour expression, but Reiner merely stuck his tongue out and then left, laughing. Historia tipped her head back and let the sun bathe her skin. He was right, though. They all seemed to be distracted.

Since Monday Hitch had been quieter than usual. Mina seemed more concerned with Hitch, but that still meant that they’d barely had an actual conversation. Historia was grateful for it because she couldn’t stop thinking of Ymir, of their last encounter and the way it made her chest ache. She’d asked Ymir to meet her on Tuesday, but had gotten a hard no. This was the first time she had actually been rejected.

“Break is almost over,” Historia announced. “Let’s go.”

Hitch and Mina followed her wordlessly. Hitch was staring forward, frowning, and Mina was staring at her. Historia studied them stealthily, finally realizing that maybe something had happened between them during her constant mental absence.

Without realizing it, Historia took them to the pavilion. Ymir noticed her, checked for the time and then put her books back in her bag. Historia’s eyebrows lifted when she realized Ymir had been doing actual school work, with her science textbook out and everything. She hopped off the pavilion with long, long legs and strode by them, but not without sending Historia a smug look. Historia ignored her pointedly, but Hitch noticed.

“What’s up with Ymir?” she asked her. “She stares at you a lot.”

Historia’s skin prickled. “Everyone stares at me, Hitch.”

“No, seriously,” Mina added. “We’ve noticed some weird energy there.”

Historia sighed. They left the pavilion and made their way to the classroom buildings. “Maybe she hates me for stepping on her glasses,” she told them, hoping that would suffice.

Hitch gave her a curious look, one that made Historia’s stomach drop. Hitch knew something was up, and once she caught a scent she went after it until she figured out whatever it was. Historia loved to send Hitch to figure out if a rumour was true or not, because she always managed to uncover the juicy drama. This once she wished her friend would let it go. To direct the conversation elsewhere, Historia gave Hitch a lifted brow and then flicked her gaze between her and Mina.

“Speaking of, I’ve noticed some weird energy here too.”

To Historia’s surprise and confusion, both of them blushed and Mina looked away. Hitch glanced at her, brows furrowing. “You’re just imagining things,” Hitch told her.

Historia wanted to pry, but this was the kind of reaction she’d wanted. Instead she gave Hitch a sweet smile layered in warning. “You must be too, then.”

Hitch’s eyes widened. They reached class as the bell rang and none of them spoke again. After that, though, Historia started to watch her friends closely to see if she could figure it out herself. Mina seemed overly embarrassed all the time, and Hitch kept looking at her a little pained. When they left for last period and the two of them bumped into each other in their nervous quest to escape class first, Hitch grabbed Mina’s arm to steady her and the both of them locked eyes.

Historia’s eyes flew wide. Her two friends jumped apart, blushed and then left class without her.

“Holy shit,” she whispered to herself. Had something _sexual_ happened between them?

“Took you long enough to notice,” a familiar voice drawled behind her.

Everyone in class had left already, so it was just the two of them. Historia turned to stare up at Ymir. She seemed to be in a good mood. Smug, but good. “I don’t bother to notice these things.”

Ymir frowned at her then. “Well, you should. They’re your friends. I don’t care for them, but you should.”

Historia didn’t like being lectured like she was some child. She knew she should care, but she couldn’t make herself feel something she didn’t. Ymir walked out of class, though, and Historia’s chest burned with annoyance. She hated Ymir having the last word like that. She decided not to care what other people would think, and hurried to catch up with Ymir.

“Like you’d know about caring for friends.”

Ymir laughed at her. “Oh my god, are you talking to me in public?”

“Shut up.”

“What’s gotten into you? Miss me already?”

“Not _you_.” Her gaze lingered on Ymir’s strong hands.

Ymir snorted. “You’re so nasty.” She smirked in an infuriatingly attractive way.

“Why aren’t you available when I want you?” Maybe she was being a bit petulant, but she had to ask.

“We have a test coming up this week so I’ve been studying. I can’t afford any distractions.”

People were starting to notice who she was walking with. She didn’t want rumours to start, because everyone already spoke about Ymir like she murdered puppies on the weekend and she did _not_ want a story going around that they had been actually talking, even though they had. Huffing, she shoved Ymir into the wall and then continued walking. Ymir got the hint and stayed behind. Historia joined her friends in last period and sat down, but when Ymir entered class and sent her an annoyed look, something strange happened.

Historia stared down at her lap, frowning. Was this uneasy feeling… guilt?

XxX

Their lips crashed together before the bathroom door even shut behind them. Historia knew logically that they had just taken a huge, dangerous chance. Anyone could have seen them stumble into the school bathroom together. Anyone could have been in the bathroom already. But none of that seemed to matter as Ymir’s tongue slid against hers and those warm hands gripped her hips. They backed up into the same stall as always and then Ymir had her against the wall. Historia moaned softly into Ymir’s mouth when their bodies pressed together.

An entire week had gone by without this—without Ymir touching her, using her, hurting her. She felt almost starved for it, so she hungrily kissed Ymir and pulled her close and wished she could just be devoured by her.

Strangely, Ymir didn’t give her any quips. She didn’t stop to smirk at her and insult her needy behaviour, she just touched her all over and kissed her hard and Historia’s head was starting to swim. Their movements were frantic and loud, elbows banging against the wall, but neither of them cared.

One hand slid underneath Historia’s bra and the other into her panties, and when Ymir’s fingers danced over her clit she sighed at the pure pleasure of it. Ymir roughly palmed her breast and shoved her shirt aside to draw the hardened nipple into her mouth. A split second before Historia released a horny moan, the bathroom door banged open and the sound caught in her throat. Her body froze, but Ymir’s didn’t. She bit down on the nipple and released a low, breathy chuckle.

“Don’t make a sound,” she whispered softly, straightening to kiss along Historia’s neck. “Can’t let them know,” she added, still under a whisper.

Historia swallowed thickly. Her heart was thundering hard in arousal and adrenalin. She wondered if she should tell Ymir to stop, but then the girls went to the mirror and started to chat, and Historia imagined being caught. She imagined them peeking over the top of the stall and seeing them like this, Ymir’s lips on her throat, her shirt open with one breast out. It would be such a scandal, and yet the possibility of it, the fear it brought, made Historia’s body pulse hot with need. She must have grown wetter, because Ymir’s fingers slid to her entrance and she inhaled sharply when they swept through the wetness there.

“Don’t stop,” Historia choked out softly.

Ymir grinned at her, pleased. She seemed to take that as a challenge, though. She dropped down to her knees, pulled Historia’s panties down and then flipped the skirt over her head and dove in. The moment her hot tongue swept through Historia’s folds, she had to clamp her mouth down hard.

“I can’t believe it,” one of the girls giggled, talking much louder then.

“Right? Who would have thought?”

Historia let her head fall back softly and shut her eyes. Ymir thrust two fingers inside of her and curled them, merely rubbing against her inner wall, not sliding yet. Her tongue swept through every fold, over her lips and then her thigh, and teeth sank into her skin. She choked on a cry.

“I heard they’re fucking already,” one girl said.

“Seriously? That’s insane.”

They laughed. “Yeah! But when you think about it, it makes sense! All the staring? And remember they had that rumour in grade 8?”

“Oh yeah. Damn, time sure flies.”

Historia’s heart was pounding hard in her chest. Who the fuck were they talking about? Ymir’s fingers slid so wetly in and out of her, so loud that she worried the girls would hear. But they didn’t. They changed the topic to ‘are Historia and Hitch sleeping together though?’ and Ymir’s thrusts turned almost savage as if from anger. Historia wasn’t complaining, but she was almost starting to bang against the wall from how hard Ymir was driving into her, and even though she absolutely loved the roughness of it, if they made a noise and those girls heard, it was over.

There would be no story they could spin to explain the two of them secretly in a bathroom stall together. The entire school would immediately guess they were fucking, and they would be right.

“She’s so pretty,” one girl commented, sighing. “Those blue eyes and blonde hair. I’d murder her to look that good.”

Ymir’s lips wrapped around her clit and sucked _hard_. Historia pressed both hands against her mouth to hold her cries in. The pleasure was just too much.

“But she’s a bitch,” the other commented. “I’d murder her just for the satisfaction.”

Ymir released a soft chuckle. Her warm breath brought the end with it, and Historia came with a silent scream. Her muscles stiffened and her body pressed into Ymir’s, and it took every ounce of control not to make a single goddamn sound. Before she even fell down from the release, the girls left as they laughed to themselves at their stupid joke.

Ymir stood and helpfully slid her panties back up. She then righted her skirt, gave it a dust off and then smirked at her. “That really got you going, huh?”

Historia slapped Ymir’s chest. “Shut up.”

“You came so hard.”

“That was dangerous, Ymir.”

“ _Don’t stop,_ ” Ymir mocked in a high-pitched voice. “Your words.”

Historia glared at her. “You’re so infuriating.”

Ymir’s grin was smug and stupid. “But you find it hot, don’t you?” She leaned down and kissed her, and Historia tasted herself on Ymir’s tongue. She groaned hotly. “I just had a full snack,” Ymir husked against her lips. “Now I’ve got better things to do.”

She straightened, winked and then left. Historia slumped against the wall and pressed a hand to her chest. Even though she still pulsed slightly from such an intense orgasm, she had mostly calmed down. Why then, was her heart thundering so hard?

XxX

Ymir really had better things to do. She walked straight to work from school since she’d packed her swimming clothes. On the way there she thought about Tyler and she smiled. The little girl had really warmed up to her. She was still frightened of Reiner, but he was always careful not to speak too loudly or move too quickly around her. It had taken just over a week to finally get Tyler to swim with the other kids. They all adored her even though she barely interacted with them, but Ymir could see that she wanted to.

Whenever Tyler got a bit too overwhelmed, she always swam up to Ymir and tugged on her shirt and then Ymir would take her out the pool to go somewhere quiet, or she’d take her just across the street for an ice cream. She was still too thin and every bit of food Ymir gave her was like some sacred present to her—that she most definitely devoured.

Ymir hated how much of herself she saw in Tyler.

“Sup freckled butt,” Reiner greeted from the shelves of pool noodles.

Ymir rolled her eyes. “Do you ever speak like a normal human being?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

She ignored him after that and went to drop her stuff in the office. They still had half an hour before the kids started to arrive, so the two of them started to clean the floor. When that was done Ymir went around with a net, cleaning the water of any unidentified floating object.

“Oh, hey guys! What’re you doing here?”

Ymir turned, stomach clenching, as Reiner’s friends sauntered into the club. They all eyed her in surprise and suspicion.

“We were passing by,” Marcel told him. They did an elaborate fist bump turned handshake. “What’s she doing here?”

Ymir ignored them and continued cleaning the pool. Her grip on the metal pole tightened until she couldn’t feel her hands anymore. Ymir hated the way everyone at school treated her. Wasn’t it enough that her own father kicked the shit out of her? It wasn’t Ymir’s fault that she looked intimidating. Since grade 8 everyone had just decided that she was bad news even though she had never hurt anyone ever. Her bad attitude was merely born from their treatment of her and whatever was happening at home. She’d only ever wanted someone to care, but that just never seemed to happen. She’d already given up on ever having someone care about her. Even Reiner’s wasn’t genuine—he just needed her for this job.

“Oh, uh, she’s just helping out,” Reiner told him dismissively. “Don’t worry about her.”

Marcel made a noise in his throat. Ymir glanced over her shoulder at them. He didn’t like that, because he stalked slowly over to her with his hands inside his jacket pockets. “I don’t like you,” he told her suddenly. She straightened.

“Marcel, come on,” Reiner went between them. “Just leave her alone.”

Marcel shoved him aside. Reiner’s interference angered him. All Ymir did was stare at him with a glare of warning. “I don’t get you, Ymir,” he said. “You stalk around looking all tortured and broody, but you’re all bark and no bite. I hear the way everyone talks about you. Oh, _don’t trouble Ymir or she’ll beat you up_. I’ve never seen you hit anyone.”

Ymir’s teeth clenched together. “That can be arranged now,” she growled.

He seemed pleased by her angry response. “What makes you think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”

“I never said that.”

“But I can see it on your face. You think you’re better than everyone.”

“Marcel,” Pieck called from behind them. She had a worried look on her face. “Not here.”

Marcel looked at her. His whole body was tensed, as if Ymir had done something horrid to him somehow and he needed to get back at her.

“Can you just leave me alone, please? I didn’t do anything to you. I can’t help how my stupid fucking face looks, and the kids are going to start arriving. I’d rather they didn’t see your angry jock act.”

Marcel’s head snapped around to her, his face going red. His fists clenched and he took a step towards her, but then they all startled when a voice shouted from the doorway.

“’Mir!”

They all looked to the little girl standing there. It was Tyler. She was alone, holding only her little bag of clean clothes and a towel. Her face was pale and her eyes wide, and Ymir could see the way she was frightened of Marcel’s hulking stance. Despite that, she hurried over and stood between them, arms spread. She was shaking so hard they could see it.

“Don’t hurt ‘Mir,” Tyler told Marcel, her lower lip quivering badly.

Ymir immediately scooped Tyler into her arms and carried her away. “Ty, you didn’t need to do that.” Her heart was breaking and shattering. Tyler’s arms tightened around her neck. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Tyler sniffled. “He looked like my daddy does when he’s going to hit mommy.”

Ymir sucked in a breath. They stopped by the changing room and Ymir set her down. She dropped down onto the floor so that she could look Tyler in the eyes. “Does he hit you too, Ty?”

Tyler looked to the floor. Hesitantly she nodded, and Ymir’s eyes filled with tears. “Sometimes,” she mumbled softly.

Reiner and Marcel were arguing, then Pieck dragged Marcel out. He shot a puzzled look at Ymir, but went willingly. Reiner immediately walked over and stopped a bit away from them. “Ymir, I’m so sorry about that.”

Ymir shrugged. “Whatever. I’m used to it.”

“I told him if I hear he treats you like that again, our friendship is over.”

She stood immediately, startled. “What? Why would you do that?”

Reiner’s brows furrowed. “Because he bullied you. I won’t give my time to pieces of shit like that.”

“Language!” Ymir scolded him, cupping her hands over Tyler’s ears.

“Shit, sorry. Ah, goddamnit! Fuck!”

Tyler started to laugh at them. Reiner joined in easily, but Ymir just looked at them. Reiner didn’t seem particularly upset that he might lose a friend. He did seem very concerned, though.

“Don’t lose a friend just because of someone like me.”

Reiner sobered up. He approached slowly and put a hand on her shoulder. “Ymir, I know you might not feel the same, but I consider you a friend. I hear the shit people say about you but I’ve always known you’re not like that. That’s why I offered this job to you. I thought maybe being with the kids would help you, but then I found out that you aren’t this aggressive, angry person. Okay, you are angry, but not like, all the time?”

Ymir didn’t realize she was crying until the tears were dripping from her chin. Tyler and Reiner both looked at her in alarm, and then they were hugging her. Tyler hugged her around the waist and Reiner’s arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Ymir usually hated being touched, especially by men. But suddenly she was sobbing and Reiner’s embrace was welcomed. He smelt like chlorine and sweat, but it was comforting. It took a few seconds for her to get her tears under control, and when she finally did Reiner pulled away.

“I’m always here for you, Ymir,” he told her, smiling sadly.

Ymir nodded. “Thanks.”

He smiled broadly, gave Tyler a little pat on the shoulder—that she didn’t mind—and then went to greet some parents by the doors. Ymir wiped her face off and took in a few deep breaths to steady herself.

“It’s okay to cry,” Tyler told her sadly. “Mommy says it’s always okay to cry when you’re hurting.”

Ymir smiled down at Tyler and took her hand. “And your mommy is absolutely right.”

She always felt like crying, but sometimes she just… couldn’t. It was like something kept her back, preventing her from getting all of the dark emotions out.

That’s why she enjoyed Historia so much. She was an expression of that darkness, and the only times Ymir didn’t feel like she was suffocating.

She helped Tyler dress, then took her hand and together they went out to swim and have fun for an hour—the one hour they both had to just forget the torment of their lives.


	6. Love bites, but so do I, so do I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title Love Bites - Halestorm

**Ymir  
**so that thing that happened didn’t happen

**Reiner  
**uh… is this a trick question?

**Ymir  
**good

**Reiner  
**good what?

**Ymir  
**it didn’t happen

**Reiner  
**uuuuhhh okay. right. so, about the thing with marcel

**Reiner  
**i’m really sorry about that and i meant everything i said

**Ymir  
**reiner you fucking ditz. i JUST said it never happened

**Reiner  
**oh! Ymir you gotta speak plainly i’m not that smart despite how i look

**Ymir  
**pffft you do look as dumb as you are

**Reiner  
**hey!

**Reiner  
**i’m basically your bff now

**Ymir  
**sure thing Rei, whatever makes you happy

**Reiner  
**it does!

Ymir shoved her phone into her bag and shook her head as she walked the short distance home. It was already getting dark, since she’d stayed a little late to help clean up after one of the kids tipped the pool noodle rack over and then another kid threw up in the pool. Kids were like that—chaotic, but Ymir loved them. Honestly, it was like therapy for her.

As she walked, she thought about what Reiner had said and how serious and concerned he had been. It genuinely touched her, but she was always a natural sceptic. She’d been hurt too many times by promises given to her by well meaning people. Maybe she would humour him for a bit, but she knew the moment her friendship costed too much, he’d nope out as quickly as possible.

Her thoughts only served to depress her and Ymir missed the car in the driveway as she headed for the door. She only realized something was amiss when she slid her key in, but it was already unlocked. The second she realized her father was home early on a weekend he should have been out, her heart dropped into her stomach.

Him being home meant…

Footsteps thundered to the door, and then it was ripped open and there he stood, tall and towering over her with a murderous glint in his eyes. The red shine over his cheeks meant that he was drunk, so Ymir already braced herself when his hand closed around her arm and yanked her inside. She went stumbling into the wall when he let her go and slammed the door shut.

“Where the fuck were you?” he shouted at her. Raising his voice meant something had gone terribly wrong at work.

Ymir swallowed thickly and did the only thing she knew to do—she cowered. “I was just helping a friend after school. I’m sorry, dad.”

“You’re sorry? I don’t want your fucking sorry!”

His hand cracked against her face and sent her to the ground. She immediately tasted blood, but she wasn’t given a moment to savour it. He was on her suddenly, his hands wrapping around her throat. He sat on top of her with his full weight and pressed his thumbs into her throat and Ymir instinctively dug her nails into his hands, scratching desperately to get them to let go.

“You can’t fucking go about and do whatever you fucking want,” he snarled down at her. Ymir’s vision began to swim. “ _I_ tell you want to do, you stupid fucking brat. After everything I do for you? Is it not enough that I get treated like a joke at work? That my stupid fucking second in charge talks shit about me when he thinks I can’t hear?”

Ymir couldn’t breathe. She started to panic and wondered if this was really it, if he would forget where he was and what he was doing and if he would snap her neck or choke her out long enough to kill her. She thought about Reiner and Tyler and god, Historia… her heart ached.

He released her throat seconds before she blacked out and she sat up the moment she could, coughing and gasping in desperate breaths. Her father went over to the couch and dropped down, mumbling profanities under his breath.

“Go and clean the fucking kitchen!” he yelled over his shoulder.

Ymir immediately stood and wobbled over to the kitchen. Her throat and lungs burned and her head was pounding, but she pushed herself to wash the dishes he had made and clean everything she could as fast as possible. When she finished the dishes, she slumped against the counter and watched a drop of water slide down her wrist. A knife glinted in the drying rack, almost beckoning her. She reached out and grabbed it.

The silver handle was still slick with water and warm, and Ymir wondered how warm it would be bathed in her father’s blood. She vividly fantasized about it, about sneaking up behind him and sliding the sharp edge across his throat. But then he shouted for her and she jumped, and she hurriedly put the knife away.

By the end of the night, Ymir’s nose was bleeding from another slap and her ankle had twisted wrong when she was shoved over. There were bruises forming along her throat and along her arm from where he grabbed her, but she just went to sleep and curled into a ball, and she chanted a few simple words to keep the panic at bay.

_I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine._

XxX

Historia knew that she was starting to play a very dangerous game. On Monday she walked into school with a wish on her lips, and her eyes searched for a familiar face among the crowd. When Hitch and Mina joined her, she felt disappointed. Theirs was not the face.

“So…” Hitch said by way of greeting. “Guess you heard the rumours already.”

Historia blinked at them. “What rumours?”

“You really haven’t heard?”

“I heard something about a fight with Marcel but nothing else. Oh, wait. I did hear something about two people fucking? But I never got names.” Hitch and Mina shared a look. “Why, is there something you want to tell me?”

“No,” Mina interjected just as Hitch opened her mouth. “Nothing. There are so many whack rumours in this school.”

Historia opted to just accept the deflection, even though she had a suspicion they were talking about themselves. Historia hated being out of the loop, but she was more concerned with other things at the moment. “Party at my house this Saturday. I’ve got a cool idea planned.”

Her friends gave her relieved smiles.

“Oh, really?” Hitch asked. “Strippers?”

“Oh please, we all know there will be free stripping already.”

“Yeah, from the boys.”

“Exactly.”

“Ew,” Mina laughed, shaking her head. “The boys at this school are so gross.”

“Yeah,” Hitch agreed. “Especially Marcel. Reiner is alright. I mean, he’s cute but a bit dumb, you know?”

“Apparently Marcel got into a fight with Ymir,” Mina added. She looked excited about the gossip. “Something about her loitering by Reiner’s dads’ swim club, and things ended up getting heated.”

Historia rolled her eyes. Every single rumour about Ymir always started with her in a physical fight with someone. Did she even actually fight people? Historia certainly knew Ymir had the anger and aggression for it, but she had never seen her throw a fist once. Surprising, considering how many people—herself included—went out of their way to make her life difficult.

“I heard—” Hitch’s added detail died on her lips as they neared the quad, where a huge group was already assembled and they could hear people jeering and laughing.

“What’s going on?” Mina asked.

The three of them elbowed their way into the crowd until they made it to the middle where they found Ymir and Marcel standing off. It seemed the rumour was true, because Ymir looked a bit beat up. The way she was glaring at Marcel was dangerous, like she would actually do something this time if he took a single step towards her. Marcel, though, wasn’t looking angrily at her at all.

“Damn, he bust her face up,” Hitch commented with a laugh. “Such a shame, she has such a nice face.”

Historia’s chest tightened.

“What happened?” Marcel spoke up, silencing the crowd around them.

Ymir’s eyes darted around nervously, but she didn’t respond. She looked like she suddenly wanted to run and never come back.

“Alright, everyone, back up!” Marcel yelled at the crowd. “Nothing to see here, please piss off.”

Though disgruntled, the crowd started to disperse. Many formed small groups close by to watch, but the massive crowd had at least left. Ymir was still incredibly tense, her fist gripping onto her bag’s strap so tightly it went white.

“I already asked you to leave me alone,” Ymir told him stiffly. “Can you not fucking understand a simple request?’

Marcel’s eyes flashed. “Ymir, come on, about what happened—”

She huffed. “I already forgot about it. Now fuck off.”

_Now_ Marcel looked angry. “I just want to—”

“Leave me _alone!_ ” Ymir screamed so loud that everyone immediately looked at her. The glaring had stopped and in its place was something Historia had never seen on her face before—true anguish. She looked like she was panicking. “Just walk away, Marcel. Please.”

They stared each other down, then he dipped his head and walked off angrily. Historia watched as Reiner stalked over, glaring at Marcel’s back. What the fuck had happened between them?

“Whoa, some serious drama,” Hitch breathed. “You think they had something going on?”

Historia wanted to throw up just at the thought. “Ymir is a lesbian,” she shot back sternly. “She wouldn’t. It’s something else.”

She was so busy staring at Ymir limping away with Reiner that she missed the look her friends gave her. With the excitement over, everyone left for class. Historia sat by her desk each period and tried to focus, but it was so difficult. By fourth period she stopped pretending to focus, and when the bell rang she pulled her phone out.

**Historia  
**meet me at the place

She left class and hurried to the bathroom, and slipped into the stall she and Ymir often used for their activities. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and fiddled with her phone, but couldn’t figure out what the tightness in her chest was or why her stomach felt like it was trying to chew out of her body. When she heard the outer door open her heart leapt into her throat, and then Ymir filled the stall with her presence and Historia’s muscles relaxed.

“Hey,” she said plainly, a bit stupidly.

Ymir didn’t say anything. She shut the door behind her and then slid down to the floor, sighing. This close, Historia could see the slight bruise forming at the edge of Ymir’s mouth and the dried blood from a cut. Her eyes travelled along every ridge of Ymir’s face, taking in every detail. She furrowed her brows when she noticed the scarf tucked carefully into the neck of Ymir’s button-up.

“Why the scarf?” she asked. “It’s seriously hot today.”

Ymir stared at her, then shrugged. “Felt like it.”

She tilted her head. “Felt like boiling alive?”

“Maybe not everyone wants to be alive,” Ymir snapped. “And I can’t offer my services today, as you can see.” She gestured to her face. “Sorry.”

Historia wasn’t accustomed to this, to Ymir being so… down. She was usually so fiery and chaotic and in control, but now she just seemed lost. Something in Historia’s chest twinged.

She got down by Ymir and straddled her lap. Ymir didn’t stop her or ask what she was doing, she just stared at her as Historia got comfortable on her lap and then took hold of her face. She tilted it here and there, inspecting every bruise and scrape and scar.

“You’ve been hurt a lot,” she said softly.

“I know.”

Historia’s thumb brushed against the bruise and Ymir winced in pain. “Did Marcel hit you first?”

Ymir smiled at her, but it wasn’t in amusement. Her eyes flicked away and her shoulders slumped. “He didn’t touch me,” she admitted softly.

Historia’s chest was nearly hot then. She recognized this, the hurt and the hopelessness, but it couldn’t be…

Swallowing, she gently undid the scarf and pulled it off. Ymir didn’t attempt to stop her, she just let her head fall back and closed her eyes. She was giving up.

Historia gasped. Finger-like bruises curled around Ymir’s neck and Historia immediately knew that Marcel hadn’t done this. She wanted to ask who, but she knew it wasn’t a question she could ask. Even though she always gave Ymir so much shit, this was just one of those times where she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t be that person.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Ymir asked her softly, defeated. “Please.”

Historia felt the foreign sensation of tears pressing at her eyes, but they didn’t collect or fall. All she did was fix the scarf back, tuck it in and then rest her head against Ymir’s shoulder. It was so strange, doing this in a place where they violated each other, but Historia felt a deep, angry hurt in her chest and she didn’t want to add to Ymir’s obvious pain. This wasn’t the delicious sort; it was just painful.

When the bell rang for second break, they didn’t get up. Historia didn’t know how long they remained there on the floor, in each other’s arms and listening to their breathing. She had Ymir’s heartbeat in her ear and it nearly lulled her to sleep, but her phone vibrating constantly kept her alert and conscious of what she was doing. When they eventually did part, Historia stared after Ymir until she disappeared around a corner. She pressed her hands against her chest.

_What was this feeling?_

XxX

Historia thought back to every time Ymir was absent from school and when she eventually came back, all the injuries she would have. Because of all the nasty rumours, she had always just chalked it up to fights. But since getting to know Ymir and interacting with her, she knew those rumours were false. That meant only one thing—someone was abusing her.

It made Historia feel a mountain of conflicted emotions. Why the fuck was Ymir just letting it happen? She had such a strong personality, so it made no sense for her to just lift her cheek for someone’s hand.

But then, Historia could imagine how difficult it was. Still, she couldn’t fit together the abused Ymir and the dark Ymir she knew so well. They were like two different people. The Ymir that tore into her with no regard for her wellbeing could not possibly be the same Ymir that just suffered silently at home.

Historia wanted to do something. She felt restless and aggravated and she wished Ymir was near, so that she could trace the bruises with her tongue and demand to know everything—to know why Ymir was being so weak.

Maybe it was unfair of her, but she didn’t fucking care. She needed to do something drastic to get Ymir to act. Whatever it was, Ymir could overcome it. Ymir didn’t owe anyone shit, and Historia wanted her to know that.

After last period, Historia went to Mr Ackerman. A voice in the back of her mind shouted for her to not go through with it, but the anger boiling in her blood made it easy to ignore the voice.

Mr Ackerman was collecting a stack of papers on his desk when she stepped into class. His tired eyes lifted to her when he heard her footsteps, but he didn’t seem very interested. He never actually did, but Historia had heard something about him having a shitty childhood so she thought maybe he would understand.

“Historia,” he greeted her. “What can I help you with?”

She stopped beside his desk. “Mr Ackerman, I wanted to ask for advice.”

He lifted a brow. “Why not go to Hange? They’re the school therapist.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure who to go to. It’s about a student that goes to this school.”

He shoved the last of the papers into his bag and clipped it shut, sighing. “I’m in no mood to hear about your petty teen drama, Miss Reiss.”

“It’s not, Mr Ackerman. I think someone I know is getting abused at home.”

He had the strangest reaction then. He stiffened like he knew exactly who it was, and his expression darkened. He straightened and hurried over to shut and lock his door. Historia probably should have been alarmed that he was locking her in with him, but she really wasn’t. He was only slightly taller than her—and she worked out to stay hot—so she could kick his ass.

“Who?” he asked her gravely.

Historia sucked in a breath. There was that feeling of guilt again, but she knew she had to do this. “Ymir,” she answered. Levi’s eyes closed and he leaned over his desk. “Wait, you know already, don’t you?”

He shot a look at her. “Historia Reiss, I want you to forget everything you think you know about Ymir. If I hear any rumours spreading around this school, I will personally see to it that you’re expelled without warning.”

Historia’s eyebrows flew into her hairline. “What the fuck?”

“Language.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, yes. You’re that rich sod’s daughter. I don’t care.” He got into her personal space, his eyes hard and unyielding. “I’m serious. Don’t you dare do anything to hurt Ymir.”

Historia laughed. “You really think I came here to just fuck with her?” She shoved him away, aware that she was teetering on a very steep line. “I’m concerned for her, Mr Ackerman.”

“You need not worry. I have things under control.”

“Under control?”

He stalked away from her, body incredibly tense. “Ymir refuses to let me help her. I’ve offered on many occasions and I’ve had to battle with my own morals. But she’s incredibly stubborn and I’m afraid of what she’ll do if I do try to interfere.”

“But we can’t just ignore it.”

“Unfortunately, Miss Reiss, we have to.”

“But that’s so fucked up!” She tried to grapple with what to say to express how uneasy this made her. “Someone is physically abusing your student, and you do nothing because she asked you to?”

Levi looked kicked down at her words. “Historia, if you truly care about Ymir then you’ll listen to me. She’s threatened to do worse to herself if I report it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She’s too scared. All we can do is be there for her and remind her that if she does want to report it, we’ll be there for her.” He squinted then and gave her a suspicious look. “Since when did you become so close with her, Miss Reiss? To my understanding, the two of you always bump heads.”

Historia smirked at him. “Maybe we’ve bumped more than just heads.”

He looked away in disgust. “You fucking hormonal teenagers.”

“We are, yeah.”

He groaned. “Did she tell you?”

Historia looked away, throat suddenly tight. “Not really. But it was implied. She asked me not to tell anyone.”

“Don’t. Please.”

“I won’t.”

He grabbed his bag and went over to unlock the door. She followed him out and watched him lock up. “Maybe you should try and convince her to go to the police,” he told her quietly. “I haven’t been able to, but maybe you can. You certainly have a strong enough personality. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Historia shrugged. “I don’t think she will.”

“But can you try?”

His gaze bore into hers. “Fine, whatever. I can.”

“Good. Do you know where she lives?”

Historia lifted a brow. “I do.”

Levi’s expression turned into a warning. “Don’t ever go there.”

He left then, stalking angrily down the hallway until he disappeared. His footsteps echoed until they didn’t, and Historia pulled her phone out after receiving a message.

**Ymir  
**if you say a word of what happened today i wont hesitate to send the video to everyone

Historia grinned at her screen. _This_ was the Ymir she knew, the one that said what she wanted and did as she pleased.

**Historia  
**whatever

That was the closest thing to an acknowledge that Ymir would get, and Historia knew that she was definitely serious. She strode out of school and to her car, ignoring the emotions in her chest. When she started her car, a song blasted loudly from the speakers, but she welcomed the distraction as she drove home.

She was utterly alone when she slid into the mansion and up the stairs to her room. The servants had all gone home early, so she only had herself and her cellphone to keep her company. She went through her social media, but she ended up going to Ymir’s Instagram and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a new post. The picture made her blood run cold.

_‘Just a simple jump away: freedom,’_ the caption read. The picture itself was of the floor several stories down, with Ymir’s arm hanging in the view. Historia could see more finger shaped bruises along her wrist and a few scrapes on her knuckles.

It was all so absolutely pathetic, and it made her livid.


	7. You can treat this like another all I'm sayin'. But don't cry like a bitch when you feel the pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter title You're Going Down - Sick Puppies

Ymir’s legs dangled over the edge as she stared down at the floor. She was _so_ high up that splatting on the ground would definitely kill her, but she wasn’t really in a rush. She just ached everywhere, but the thing that really gave her pause was thinking of Tyler. This poor kid had to live a life just like hers, and if she accepted lights out so soon, would Tyler grow up just like her, and end up here too? On a ledge?

Ymir climbed down and started the long trek down the stairs. This was an abandoned building halfway through construction, nearby her house. She came here often when things just got too painful and she wanted to dance around the ideas of death. In some way, it helped coming here, but she knew it was dangerous.

Though, no one could really do worse to her. She just felt so depressed and ground out and just, so fucking _pathetic._ She had lost her shit at school and Reiner kept messaging her to ask how she was doing, and despite how fake she knew he must be, she couldn’t resist the temptation of a friend. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would feel like to just connect with someone. She—

Historia’s angry blue eyes flashed in her mind, and she felt a familiar ache within her. The only person she had connected with was Historia, but even their thing was just that—a shapeless, meaningless thing. Historia would sooner toss her aside than actually care for her. That was the allure of it, but maybe that was pointless.

As soon as she finished school, Ymir wanted to get as far away as possible. Through working by Reiner, she had managed to save enough money to get a bus ticket out of town, rent somewhere for a couple months and look for a job. To do that she needed to finish school.  

Sometimes, though, she was so tempted to just completely give up. The more intense her depression became, the easier it was to look at those pills and her noose, or to come here and hang out the window. Would her father even care? Ilse had already—

Ymir stopped walking and physically stopped the thought before it formed. She would not revisit that. If she did, she would only end up heading back up and diving out the window head first. She needed to keep herself in check no matter how fucking hard it was.

Suddenly, intensely, she craved Historia Reiss. She craved those lips and sharp teeth and the tongue that invaded her mouth. She craved the anger and passion directed at her for no reason, and the need of her. She craved how much Historia wanted her.

It was getting late and her father would be home soon, though. She couldn’t afford to make him angry again. Although if he came home furious again, he would find any excuse to hit her. Whatever happened to him, he always used her as his outlet. In the morning he would always apologize and try to fix it, but those attempts were always half hearted because they both knew he didn’t love her or care for her, and that he would gleefully do it again.

**Ymir  
**im coming over. do i need to sneak or nah

**Historia  
**just walk right in like last time

Ymir decided to hell with it all and ordered an uber. Twenty minutes later she was walking up the stairs to Historia’s mansion, then she stepped inside without knocking because the door had been left wide open. Her heart started to pound.

She shut the door, slid the bolt in and then made for the stairs. Just like last time, there was no one. It was completely silent, unnerving Ymir enough to make her limp faster to Historia’s room. Historia’s door wasn’t closed, but left open a crack. When Ymir pushed the door open, her breath caught in her throat.

Historia was reclining on her bed, naked. On the bedside table sat the strap and some lube, and arousal roared to life in every inch of Ymir’s body.

“I’m surprised you messaged me,” Historia drawled seductively.

How had she known? Ymir’s chest burned. She threw the door shut and then ripped at her clothes to rid herself of them. Even as Historia gasped when her new bruises were revealed, she didn’t stop or care. What did it matter? Historia now knew the most shameful thing about her and there was nothing she could do to change that. All she could do was roll with the punches.

She crawled on the bed and kissed Historia hard. “I need you,” she gasped out.

Historia arched up into her, all warm and naked. Her skin was like silk and Ymir wanted to mar the perfect surface of it. She scraped her nails down Historia’s tummy and enjoyed the moan against her mouth.

“So take me,” Historia told her breathlessly. “Use me. I’m yours.”

The words made her heart pound. She was desperate as she grappled for the strap, slipped it on and then positioned herself between Historia’s legs. She pushed them far apart and then watched hungrily as the hard cock slid into her. Historia was already dripping wet, but her cry sounded more painful than pleasured, but Ymir didn’t really care.

This was hers. Historia was hers to use however she wanted, and she would.

When the toy sank all the way inside of her, Ymir tugged Historia to her, bringing her to an odd angle. She then started to move her hips, pulling out to the tip and then snapping forward, slamming back in. Historia’s breasts bounced obscenely and the bed creaked and it all fed into Ymir’s sudden frantic need. She slid her hands down Historia’s legs to grip her hips, and then she started pounding into her angrily. The other end of the toy rubbed her own clit harshly and she went harder, faster, seeking only her own release, her own pleasure.

Historia’s lips spread almost painfully around the thick, solid shaft, but her own cries were delirious and breathy and she came long before Ymir did. Even when Historia’s inner walls clutched down on the toy, Ymir kept thrusting, kept going and going until she broke apart and fell forward against Historia, her face burrowing into the pillow. She shuddered and swore and bit down into her lip, and when she finally came down from it she realized that at some point her hand had found Historia’s and their fingers were intertwined.

She lifted herself and pulled the toy out, then removed it and tossed it to the corner of the bed. She immediately returned to her position atop Historia and pressed her lips to her perfect, unblemished throat. Her teeth sank in, but not enough to break skin. She wanted to, but she didn’t.

“Feel better?” Historia asked her softly.

Ymir swallowed. “Don’t.”

Historia sighed. Always the brat, she slipped a leg between Ymir’s and then pressed up, grinding against her. Ymir grunted. “I can and I will. You know I know now, Ymir. You basically admitted it earlier today.”

Ymir got up and off the bed to stand by the window. She was completely nude but she didn’t care at all, because nothing mattered anymore. Still, she felt uneasy with Historia’s words and its insinuation.

“So, what now?”

Historia joined her. Her touch was gentle when her fingertips traced the line of a bruise on Ymir’s back. “Now?” Historia asked her. “Now is when I tell you that my biological mother brutally beat me when I was a young kid. Her boyfriends would play with me and use me however they wanted, and my mother only asked them for money in return.”

Ymir’s eyes dropped to Historia’s. Her expression was blank, but her eyes were filled with intense anger. “What?”

“Yeah. I was seven when I killed her.” She grinned severely and continued tracing Ymir’s bruises and scars. “It was an accident, actually. She tried to kill me first. She kept going on about how she hated my existence, how she always had to whore herself out to get money to feed us. I mean, she never spent that money on me, so I don’t know where she got it in her head that I cost a lot of money. That was always her excuse. So, she grabbed a knife and went for me, but I managed to get it from her and I slid it into her stomach. I watched her bleed out on the dirty carpet. Do you want to know what her last words were to me?”

Ymir stared at Historia, mouth hanging open. “Um, what?”

“ _I should have aborted you.”_ She laughed then, brows drawn together. “Can you imagine that?”

Ymir suddenly felt numb. “Why… why are you telling me this?”

Historia looked out the window, at the beautiful yard and the sunset. It cast a beautiful orange glow over the green grass. “Because I understand, Ymir. More than you will ever know. I suffered the worst torture you can imagine. I remember every second of it, too. Have you ever wondered why I just don’t care? That’s why. I live this life for _me_ , because no one else ever put in half the effort on my behalf.”

“Historia—”

“I’m telling you this not because I want pity from you.”

“That last thing I’d do is pity you.”

Historia’s smile turned a little more genuine, but she still seemed incredibly lethal. Ymir imagined the scene in her mind and it made her heart race with excitement.

“Good,” Historia said. “So, who is abusing you?”

Ymir’s expression soured but Historia rolled her eyes. Historia mashed her thumb against a brown bruise on Ymir’s arm and she hissed in pain, but Historia didn’t seem to care. She stared at her. Ymir’s teeth clenched.

“Why do you even want to know?”

Historia sighed, disappointment passing over her face. She lightly shoved Ymir by the shoulder then walked back to her bed, where she collapsed. Ymir couldn’t help but stare at the curve of her ass and her naked back, and she felt herself growing aroused again. This whole conversation should have disgusted her, but Historia’s piercing gaze was making her throb deep inside. She joined Historia on the bed.

“I don’t want to lose my toy,” Historia told her plainly. “I can’t keep enjoying you if some asshole decides to hit you too hard or snap your neck.”

Ymir swallowed. She trailed her hand along Historia’s body, from hip to stomach to chest to finally, her throat. There she gently wrapped her fingers around it and gave a light squeeze. “Do you care about me?”

Historia’s stare was steel and she didn’t respond. Instead of waiting for an answer, Ymir surged forward and then they were kissing. Ymir slipped a leg between Historia’s and groaned when she felt slick wetness smear against her thigh, and then she was mindlessly rutting into Historia like they were two animals in heat.

She imagined it, little Historia fighting back, destroying the monster that hurt her. The picture in her mind made her lower back tingle, made her clit throb badly. To her surprise, Historia slid her hand down between their bodies to between her legs. In all their time fucking, Historia had never reciprocated. She wanted to tell her to stop before she reached, but when Historia’s fingers swept through her wetness and against her clit, the sharpest wave of pleasure she had ever felt washed through her and she released an embarrassing moan. It encouraged Historia—incensed her.

Historia started rubbing at her clit and Ymir was powerless to stop her. They kissed until they could barely breath and then Historia had her teeth at Ymir’s throat and slid inside of her with two fingers, and the foreign intensity made Ymir feel nearly numb from the electricity of it. She started to move against Historia’s hand, riding her fingers and grinding down on her palm and then she came without warning, violently and openly, and Historia bit down so hard on her shoulder that she saw red.

Ymir stopped moving and collapsed, breathing out harshly and letting what they had just done sink in.

“You’re incredible,” Historia breathed against her ear. “I treat you like utter shit and you still give me your time. I can’t understand how someone as strong minded as you can allow someone to hurt you without your consent. I want to understand, Ymir. But more than that, I want you to fight back.”

Ymir chuckled. Historia’s fingers still sat inside of her, stretching her and filling her and the presence of them made Ymir feel overwhelmed. She didn’t want them to move.

“My father,” she finally admitted.

Ymir dropped onto her slide, forcing Historia’s fingers to slide out of her, and sighed. She stared tiredly at the ceiling.

“Where is your mother?”

“Gone,” she answered. “When I was just a baby, she left. It was just my father, myself and—” She paused, jaw muscles bunching up. She didn’t want to say it, but Historia’s curious gaze made her feel like she couldn’t leave here without the truth—the burning, shameful truth. “And my sister,” she finally said. “Ilse.”

Historia flopped onto her stomach and sucked her fingers clean. “Where’s your sister now?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh.”

“She killed herself.”

“ _Oh_.”

Ymir sighed and covered her face with her arm. Her heart started to hurt badly after saying it out loud to another person. “She suffered our father’s abuse for years and years. She was seven years older than me. When she was fourteen, she slit her wrists in our bath and I was the one that found her. I was seven, then. There was so much blood. I remember everything about that night. I remember my father coming home, furious about something because Ilse hadn’t cleaned or cooked or some stupid shit. I was just in my room playing with the toys Ilse had managed to secretly buy for me. I wondered where she was, too, because she’d been in the bath for a while.

“I went to look for her. My father hadn’t really hurt me yet, because Ilse took all of it. But I guess he just broke her down until she had nothing left. So I found her there, dead in a sea of bloody water. I don’t even remember saying anything. I just stood in the doorway, staring at her. I couldn’t understand what I was seeing, but I knew. I _knew_. I saw the way he hit her, I heard when it happened. Ilse would climb into my bed with me and just sob.

“I was too young and too stupid. He eventually found me standing there and found her, and I remember that was the first night he punched me. He was angry that I never called him. He wasn’t even upset that his daughter had killed herself. I don’t remember a thing after that, but he must have called the police or something. I don’t know. The next morning, the room was cleaned but I could still smell all the blood. After that, he started to hurt me too.”

The silence was deafening when she finally finished speaking. She hadn’t said these words to another person before. It felt terrifying but also liberating, like maybe she could breathe a little easier. Talking about it ripped old wounds open, but maybe they needed to bleed again to heal properly.

“Jesus Christ,” Historia finally breathed. “No wonder you’re so fucked up.”

“Ditto.”

Ymir couldn’t believe she had just spilled her whole story to Historia fucking Reiss. She thought maybe Historia would laugh at her—since her story sounded worse—but when Ymir turned to study her face, she found that Historia looked… upset.

“Ymir,” Historia finally said. She tilted her head and looked at her, and Ymir was struck with how much that looked like genuine care. “You need to report your shithead father.”

Ymir swallowed. She knew this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. “I can’t,” she supplied weakly.

Historia’s eyes turned hard. “Like hell you can’t.”

“You… you don’t—” Fuck, she _did_ understand, so that argument wouldn’t work. “I have a plan, alright? When school is out, I’m fucking off far away.”

Historia studied her for a long, long time. It become unbearably uncomfortable. “Let’s kill him,” she finally said.

Ymir blinked at her. “ _What_?”

“Let’s kill your father, Ymir. Together.”

XxX

For some reason, after that night with Historia Ymir found herself constantly in the mood. She felt lighter somehow after telling Historia about her past and her life, so when she’d returned home that night to her furious father, her good mood had thrown him so off he’d just told her to fuck off and never touched her. She’d furiously masturbated that entire night, and in the morning, she was sore as all hell.

But, fuck. She remembered Historia’s eyes, the cold laugh and the carefully concealed emotion. She knew Historia had tried not to appear as concerned, but she really had been. Her offer was all Ymir could think of, too. When she snuck into the kitchen to see if there was any food she could sneak eat, she saw her father asleep on the couch.

He looked like such a respectable person. She would bet her whole life that people actually liked him and thought he was a good guy. He put on such an act, but at home that facade fell away and his vile true personality took control. She stood in the doorway and stared at him, and knew without a doubt that no one would truly miss him if he died.

She really wanted him to die.

After school on Friday she made her way to the Braun Swim Club, almost skipping as she did. Some of the kids had already arrived when she got there, including Tyler. She was busy splashing around with Thomas, both of them clutching onto pool noodles. Ymir’s spirits lifted even more seeing her so happy and carefree. It had taken a lot these past weeks to bring Tyler out of her shell and to a place where she felt okay interacting with the other kids.

“Hey monkeys, Ymir is here!” Reiner shouted happily.

The kids all looked up at her just in time for her to do a massive cannon ball. When she surfaced the sounds of laughter assaulted her ears.

“Don’t be so crap!” one of the girls grumbled at her, wiping her long hair out of her face. Ymir blinked.

“Ashley, where did you learn that word?”

Ymir swam over to her. “My mom said it this morning.”

Ymir tried to smother her grin. “Well, crap is a bad word. You shouldn’t say it.”

Ashley gave her a look. “I know, that’s why I said it.”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore and started to laugh. Ashley didn’t seem so impressed so Ymir started to tickle her. The other kids all started to scream and ambushed Ymir from behind, climbing all over her and playfully dunking her in the water. It didn’t take much for Ymir to stand up to get out of the water, since it reached her waist. She had kids hanging on her arms and wrapped around her back.

“Reiner, help! The zoo has attacked!”

Reiner laughed from the side of the pool. “You asked for it.”

Ymir continued to fool around for a bit longer, then she got the kids off and joined Reiner on dry land. They started instructing the kids. Today they were teaching them different breathing techniques. Reiner loved teaching them interesting stuff, and sometimes they even gave lessons on things completely unrelated to swimming. Like manners and morals and equality. Reiner had been very adamant on teaching the kids about the different types of people in the world, especially after he heard one of the boys say something bad about the girls because of what he’d learnt at home.

When the hour was done and the parents started arriving to pick their kids up, Ymir remained floating in the pool with Tyler.

“Ymir, you should get Tyler dried and dressed before her parents arrive,” Reiner suggested.

“Yeah sure.”

She got Tyler out of the pool and took her to the dressing room, where she helped her dry off and get dressed. She had less bruises this time, which was good to see, and she had started to gain a little bit of weight. Ymir tried to feed her as much as possible when she could.

After putting Tyler’s things in her bag, she caught the little girl staring seriously at her face.

“Did your daddy hurt you too?”

Ymir froze. She knew the bruise by her mouth was obvious, but the ones at her neck were difficult to hide when she had to get in the pool. It broke her heart that Tyler had to see them.

“No, Ty,” she answered. “I got into a fight with that mean boy from last time. Remember him?” She hated lying, especially when Tyler's eyes widened with recognition and then narrowed in upset.

“I’ll hit him if he comes here again.”

Ymir grabbed Tyler’s hands and gave then a little squeeze. “Tyler, I want you to make a promise to me.” Tyler’s bright green eyes studied her intently. “You must promise to never resort to violence, alright? You should use these hands to help people and create things.” She sighed and combed her fingers through Tyler’s wet red hair. “Always defend yourself, but don’t ever be bad like _him_.”

Her words had a strong affect. Tyler inhaled, her little shoulders lifting and then dropping with a great heave of a sigh. “Okay,” she said. “I promise. No matter how mad I get, I won’t use my hands or my feet to hurt someone.”

Ymir’s chest warmed. “That’s my girl. Would you like something to eat while we wait for your mom?”

“Oh, yes please Ymir!”

Ymir got some burgers for them with money that Reiner graciously offered, then sat on a bench outside of the club. Tyler happily munched on both burgers, Ymir having given hers to Tyler. She swung her legs back and forth as she waited.

Ymir and Reiner shared a look. It was already darkening and Tyler’s mom was late.

“Ymir, do you have any idea where her mom is?” Reiner asked her.

Ymir nervously chewed on her lip. “No, Veronica didn’t mention anything. She wouldn’t just leave Tyler here.”

They both glanced over at her. Reiner had his suspicions too, that Tyler’s father was hitting them. Once Veronica had dropped Tyler off and half her face had been broken and bruised and her arm had been in a sling. Ymir had stopped Reiner from storming over to the man sitting in the car waiting.

“We should call the police,” Reiner grumbled. “We both known her prick of a father is hurting them. And now this, neglecting her.”

Ymir felt a rush of panic. “Reiner, we can’t.”

He gave her a confused look. “Why the hell not?”

She sighed. “If Veronica denies the accusation the police won’t do jack shit. All we’ll achieve is getting her killed by a furious husband.”

Reiner didn’t seem pleased at all, but he at least understood. “I think it’s so messed up that domestic abuse is not taken that seriously. What more evidence do they need? Sometimes the victims don’t know how to help themselves because they’re scared, but that doesn’t mean they deserve the abuse.”

Ymir felt uncomfortable with how close to home his words hit. It was funny how he didn’t even know that what he’d just said applied to Ymir too.

She wished she had the courage to do something about her father, but she didn’t. She was too afraid of what he would do if no one believed her.

After another thirty minutes it was fully dark, but a familiar car screeched into the parking lot. There was only one person inside and when he got out of the car and beckoned for Tyler, Ymir’s stomach clenched.

Where was Veronica?

Ymir hurried over to Tyler and took her small bag. She slipped a paper into her little hand when she took it.

“Tyler, if something happens to you or your mommy and it gets really bad, call me. Do you know how to?”

Tyler nodded stiffly. “Mommy taught me.”

“Good.” They were almost by the car. Her father had climbed back in and shoved the passenger door open. He looked furious and drunk, and Ymir didn’t want to let Tyler get in the car with him. But she had to.

Tyler had gone completely pale but her expression was resolute. She gave Ymir’s hand a squeeze and got in the car.

“My kid won’t be coming back,” the father told her once the door closed. “Veronica sends her regards.”

Tyler’s eyes flew wide. Her gaze met Ymir’s and she swore she could hear the sound of Tyler’s heart breaking.

Ymir ignored the father. “Be strong Ty, you can do this,” she whispered to her.

The father skidded away and sped down the street, preventing Tyler from responding. Even when they disappeared around the corner Ymir could still hear the car's tires squealing.

“We have to do something Ymir,” Reiner told her desperately. “That kid needs this club. She’s going to lose her life if this goes on.”

“I know.” Ymir clenched her teeth hard until it hurt. “Trust me, I know.”

She went to get her stuff, said goodbye to Reiner and went home. Her feet felt heavy and her stomach was tied up in knots. As much as she wanted to call the police, she couldn’t. Not unless they asked for help. Not unless something happened, but by then it would be too late.

XxX

Ymir ran faster than she ever had in her life before. Her sneakers pounded hard on the pavement and pain seared in her injured ankle, but she didn’t let that slow her down. She couldn’t.

Ten minutes ago she had been startled out of a fitful sleep by her phone ringing. Her heart had leapt into her throat before she even confirmed who it was, but in her gut she already knew.

“ _Ymir!”_ Tyler had sobbed. “ _Please help us. Please save my mommy.”_

Honestly, Ymir didn’t need any other prompting. She immediately raced out if bed, dressed and then ran out the house. She knew Tyler’s address by heart and it took her 15 minutes to run there. She wasn’t even certain how she had managed to run so quickly.

The night was mostly quiet, but Ymir heard the sound of banging and shouting within the house in front of her. The porch light from next door came on and the door opened. An elderly man stepped out.

“What on earth is happening?” he asked her. “I heard screaming and shouting even in my sleep.”

Ymir swallowed. “Please call the police. A mother and child are in danger and might be severely injured.”

His eyes widened. “Veronica and her little one? Oh! God. Let me…” He disappeared into his home and Ymir hurried forward.

The front door was locked so she ran to the back. She could hear glass shattering and Tyler screaming. It was horrible, because Tyler was such a quiet child.

Logic told her to stay outside and wait for the police. Her instincts told her they would be too late. She decided that whatever she may suffer inside, it would be worth it. She needed to protect them from _him_.

A window on the second floor was open, so Ymir rushed to the wall and started to climb a drainage pipe. It almost snapped off, but she was quick enough to leap up and grab hold of the window ledge. She hoisted herself up and over and tumbled inside. She was immediately stunned by the sound of more smashing glass and then a long, pained wail.

Ymir took off running down the hallway. She bounded down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen, where she saw blood splattered everywhere and all the glass kitchenware broken. The man was at the pantry door, trying his hardest to open it but Veronica must have been using all of her strength to keep him out.

He didn’t know she was right there behind him. Ymir grabbed for one of the heavy pans hanging over the island counter, and then she took in a calm breath. Her heart was pounding hard, but there was also a burn in her gut—an excitement.

With a steady hand, Ymir surged forward and slammed the pan into the man’s head. She heard a wet crack, and then he dropped down like dead weight. The pantry door fell closed and Ymir heard the sound of sobbing within. Outside sirens screamed through the air.

Ymir pushed his body away from the door and knocked gently. “Veronica? Tyler? It’s me.”

She heard the sound of struggling inside. “Tyler, don’t—”

The door burst open and there she was, so small and frightened, nearly bathed in blood but somehow still in one piece. She fell into Ymir’s arms and started to sob, and Veronica hesitantly crawled out if the pantry. Her blackened eyes landed on her husband on the floor, the dark red pool of blood leaking from his head, and she smiled.

“Thank you,” Veronica choked out. She hugged Ymir as well. “I don’t know how, but thank you.”

Ymir inhaled shakily. “You’re welcome.”

She helped them up and guided them out the front door just as the police rushed up the sidewalk. An ambulance was parked on the grass as well and Ymir waved to get their attention. She explained to the officers what happened and then the three of them went to the ambulance to get checked. Ymir had to stay so that she could give her statement.

The whole while, Tyler remained in her arms and Veronica clutched at her hand. Eventually she needed to be loaded onto a stretcher due to her injuries.

“Will my mommy be okay?” Tyler asked her tearfully.

Ymir gave her a small smile. “She will, Ty. You and your mom are stronger than anything.”

“I knew you would save us. I knew it.”

Ymir just hugged her closer.


	8. Last night got nasty and I'm still kind of tongue tied. I hate to say it, but she brings out my sick side

When she returned home just after midnight, she felt extremely drained. The usual fear that came with being in the house didn’t even disturb her. Her father was still fast asleep, unaware, so she went to her room and collapsed on the bed and let herself fall into a deep, blissful sleep. There were no dreams to wake her, this time, despite it all.

Her father was gone by the time Ymir dragged herself out of bed at nearly 2pm. There was no food, as usual, so she made a mug of coffee—not caring if he noticed that she had and punished her for it—then returned to her bed and collapsed. Her sheets were still nasty as fuck, but when was she supposed to pull herself together enough to actually do anything about it? There was just no motivation to clean her room up. No one worth a damn saw it, herself included. The clutter and state of it reflected the inside of her mind perfectly.

Ymir sipped on her coffee to stave off the hunger and scrolled through her social media. She paused mid sip when she noticed that Historia had liked her latest picture, and her stomached filled with unease. Sometimes she posted shit that was pointedly attention seeking, and that stupid picture had been it. Historia had actually seen it, had read the caption and understood the emotions behind it. Annoyed, Ymir immediately deleted the post. She huffed and locked her phone, but then it vibrated and she unlocked it.

**Historia  
**party tonight. you’ll be there

**Ymir  
**uuh no thanks, i’d rather choke

**Historia  
**uuh i wasn’t fucking asking

**Historia  
**plus the choking can be arranged if you really wanna

Ymir laughed out loud. She drained the rest of her coffee and dropped the mug onto the floor. It was taking another fat risk, she knew—going to the party. Last time she had dared go to one, she’d come home to a severe beating. If her father decided to come home early and found her out again, he could actually break one of her bones.

Ymir remembered the sound of cracking that man’s skull with the pan and her blood roared. Adrenaline and recklessness filled her veins, so she decided to make a bad decision—as if any of her decisions were ever good to begin with.

**Ymir  
**fine but you’re the one getting choked out

**Historia  
**bitch

**Historia  
**it starts at 9pm. you know how to get in

Ymir flopped back on her bed and kicked her dirty blanket onto the floor. She slid her hand underneath her shirt and trailed her fingertips over her stomach. She bit down on her lip.

**Ymir  
**ye of course

**Ymir  
**don’t insult me like that

**Ymir  
**are we gonna fuck

She remembered last night clearly—the fear, the adrenaline and the pure excitement of actually taking a stand for once. It made her feel almost giddy.

**Historia  
**of course we’re gonna fuck why would i even invite you over then

Ymir grinned. Something in her gut twisted in hurt, but she liked it. She liked how horrible Historia could be. She also liked it when Historia cared, and those two things were in such contrast. Talking to Historia like this, with fire in her veins, was turning her on. Unbearably so.

Ymir closed her eyes and thought over every sexual act she and Historia had done. She thought of the kisses and the biting, the fingers as they slid inside of her. She thought of the way Historia’s pussy looked full to its limit. She remembered the way Historia stared down at her as she swirled her tongue through her folds.

Shuddering, Ymir slid her hand down into her boxers. She was already incredibly wet. This amused her greatly, because she rarely ever got wet. Even when something aroused her, she usually just felt uncomfortably hot and throbbing down there, but would be as dry as the fucking Sahara. But ever since Historia, she found herself getting moist at the drop of a hat. She didn’t feel like going for the more difficult orgasm, though, so the wetness would need to go to waste. Instead she used her fingers to spread her lips, giving her more access, and then she started to rub harsh circles over her throbbing clit.

**Ymir  
**cool. busy masturbating rn so chat later

She was about to throw her phone aside and fully focus on the task at hand, but then Historia started to type and her message popped up with the little ‘whoosh’ noise. Ymir’s fingers stuttered over her slick flesh.

**Historia  
**don’t go

**Historia  
**show me

She stopped rubbing her clit. Ymir lifted a brow, stared at the chat and then figured, what the hell? She opened up her camera and then snapped a pic of her hand hidden in her boxers, one leg propped up. Her shirt had ridden up to her navel, and at the angle it almost looked like she had abs. She felt satisfied, so she hit send and then continued her earlier motions, but this time slower and with less purpose.

**Historia  
**lame. tell me what you’re doing

Ymir had never done something like this. The allure of it was too powerful, though.

**Ymir  
**well as i showed you (to your dissatisfaction) i’ve got my hand in my boxers. i’m really fucking wet

**Historia  
**jesus

**Historia  
**how are you touching yourself?

**Ymir  
**send me a pic in return and i’ll tell you

Historia immediately sent a picture and Ymir felt physical pain from the wave of arousal it gave her. She had sent a picture of her breasts out, bra and shirt pushed up. She was on her bed too and below she wore pink panties that showed the outline of her lips and fuzzy socks on her feet. Her pink nipples were stiff and she had one hand cupping a breast, and Ymir’s mouth watered.

**Ymir  
**fuck me

**Historia  
**you’ve gotten me worked up so spill, or else

Ymir swallowed thickly. Her fingers danced faster over her clit. Before she could send a response, her phone rang. She answered immediately and pressed the phone to her ear.

“I’m so fucking horny Ymir, why did you do this to me?”

Ymir laughed. “You were the one that wanted to know.”

“ _You_ mentioned that you started masturbating.”

She closed her eyes and let out a little breathy moan. “Does… does knowing I’m pleasuring myself really turn you on that much?”

Ymir could hear Historia breathing heavily and that only made her feel even more worked up.

“It does,” she confessed. “Because I know you’re touching yourself while thinking of me.”

Ymir whimpered. Her fingers were absolutely slick then and the rhythmic pressure against her throbbing clit was heavenly. She suddenly wished it was Historia touching her, making her feel this good.

“I am,” Ymir decided to tell her. “It’s always you, Historia.”

“ _Ymir,_ ” Historia groaned breathlessly.

Ymir wanted to come so badly. She could feel it building already, right there against her fingertip, but she wouldn’t be satisfied unless Historia came before her, or with her. Despite the fact that Historia had started this in control, Ymir decided to take it away.

“What are you doing right now?”

Historia’s voice was breathy. “I’m not doing anything yet, just listening to you.”

She slowed her fingers. “Good,” she breathed. “Now be a good girl and take your panties off.”

There was a long pause where all Ymir heard was Historia’s breathing, and then rustling as she clearly did as she was ordered. When the crackling over the phone stopped, Historia’s arousal-soaked voice returned.

“Panties are off.”

Ymir licked her dry lips. “Show me.”

Historia did not hesitate. When the picture loaded Ymir sucked in a very deep breath to conceal her moan. Historia had her legs spread open, her fingers spreading her lips apart to display the slick, pink flesh within. Her clit was even visible, most likely engorged and Ymir wished more than anything she was right there to draw it between her lips.

“Fuck.”

“What do you want me to do next?”

Historia sounded… extremely horny. Gone was her bratty attitude and in its place an eager submissive. Ymir had always wondered when this dynamic would happen and she welcomed it happily. Historia had such a strong, insufferable personality. Part of why she enjoyed handling her so roughly was to see her with her authority ripped away. She wanted to see Historia bared down to nothing but a quivering, vulnerable mess.

“You aren’t allowed to touch your clit,” Ymir told her sternly. She’d never heard her own voice drop so low before, but it had the intended affect when Historia inhaled sharply. “I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers. Pick as many as you want. Show me, so I know you’re listening to me.”

Historia was the one to whimper then. Ymir’s own fingers were still working, keeping her in orgasmic limbo, but her sharp focus on Historia kept the promise of bliss _just_ out of reach. It would take absolutely nothing for her to tip over.

In a minute or so Historia sent a picture where she had three fingers buried deeply inside of herself. She sent a few more of her fingers in at various depths, and one she had close up to show how sopping wet she was.

“You’re such a good girl,” Ymir purred happily. “Now I want you to fuck yourself like I’m the one doing it. No touching your clit, or I’ll end the call.”

“Yes da—”

She cut herself off, but Ymir knew exactly what she wanted to say. She’d never really understood it before, but there was absolutely a sick need for it now. “Say it,” she demanded hotly. “Say it, babygirl.”

Historia made a soft noise of pained pleasure. “Yes daddy,” she finally moaned.

Ymir very nearly came. She had to stop touching herself completely, and then she went silent and listened to Historia. She heard every breath, every brush of skin and wet squelch from between her legs. After every few sighs Historia moaned, and before long she was gaining in volume and Ymir’s heart was beating so hard she feared it would explode in her chest.

“Ymir!” Historia cried out. “Fuck, Ymir…”

“That’s it, Historia,” she husked. “Fuck yourself for me, baby. Ruin yourself like I would.”

“God, fucking hell Ymir. How do you… how…”

“Because I’m just that good.”

“You’re so…” she trailed off and moaned loudly. “So… fucking smug, Ymir… it’s… so hot, but… aah, fuck…” She mumbled an obscenity under her breath. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, Historia.”

She did, gloriously. Historia screamed her name until her voice went hoarse and then Ymir herself tipped over into oblivion. She had started touching herself again towards the end, and her clit pulsed violently as the orgasm took her. She didn’t make a sound, but a soft whine fell from her lips and her breathing was ragged, and when she and Historia both regained their senses, they fell silent. Eventually, Historia chuckled.

“You better fuck me really hard tonight, Ymir,” Historia groaned. “I still feel so worked up.”

Ymir pulled her hand out of her boxers and wiped it off. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Oh, yes you certainly will.”

Ymir grinned to herself. “You little freak, calling me your daddy.”

She wished she was over there to see Historia’s face. She could only imagine the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks, the shame making her flustered even when she tried to act like she didn’t care.

“You’re the last person that can judge me.”

“Oh, I’m not judging you. That was fucking hot.”

“Mm, it certainly was. Now, I need to go so I can clean up before Hitch and Mina get here. Think of my pussy while I’m gone.”

Ymir opened her mouth to say something smart in reply, but Historia hung up on her. She pulled her phone away from her ear and blinked at it, offended.

“Evil little gnome,” she grumbled, but there was most certainly a warm sensation in her chest that she didn’t want to name. She felt both satisfied and overly wound up again, so she opted to take a long shower and maybe finally wash her nasty sheets.

XxX

When Ymir arrived at Historia’s, the party was already in full swing. It looked completely different like this, full of teens all talking, grinding on each other and dancing. The lights had been dimmed and somewhere speakers were blasting some very sexual songs, and Ymir studied the sea of faces for Historia’s.

**Ymir  
**your daddy is here

She put her phone away and went into the kitchen in search of a drink. She had to squeeze through a group of people at the door and they laughed loudly at her when she stumbled out the other side of them. She shot one of the guys a glare, but he seemed too drunk to care. Luckily no one seemed to notice it was _her_ at Historia’s party. She opened the massive fridge and stared, open mouthed, at the extreme amount of food and drinks. There were already plenty of drinks on the island counter, but Ymir wanted the good stuff.

She found some amarula and really expensive vodka, so she pulled those out and poured herself two glasses. In the small glass with amarula she added three blocks of ice, and in the large glass with vodka she filled with vanilla coke. When she returned the bottles, she then raided the food and made herself a massive sandwich packed with meats, cheeses and various sauces. The group of guys by the door were curiously watching her, and someone even asked her to make something for them.

“In your fucking dreams,” she shouted back. They laughed.

“Are you seriously eating my food?”

Ymir closed the fridge door, revealing Historia standing behind it. She didn’t look all that impressed, but her outfit was devastating and Ymir turned to distract herself with the sandwich before she did something stupid like kiss Historia right there. People were looking at them, and by then someone must have started to whisper that the loser Ymir had lost her way into Historia’s party.

Ymir licked barbeque sauce from her lips. “Yeah, of course. I haven’t eaten in like, days.”

Historia’s glare darkened. “Seriously?”

Ymir devoured the last of the sandwich and then downed the amarula. Though sweet, it was pretty strong. She was glad for the full stomach, otherwise the alcohol would hit her super fucking fast.

She indicated for Historia to step forward, then when she did Ymir bent down to whisper in her ear.

“My father doesn’t keep food in the house. I literally don’t eat for days at a time.” She pulled away and grinned, then started drinking her vodka. “Shit party you got here. All the guys are drunk already.”

Historia was giving her a severe look. Ymir lifted a brow, because there was _no way_ Historia Reiss was actually upset about the information she had just learnt. Now that she knew about Ymir’s sordid life, there was no point hiding anything else. In fact, Ymir really enjoyed sharing these things with Historia. Because it was a weight off her chest, and also because it bothered her for some reason and Ymir got endless amusement from doing anything that bothered her.

“Come with me,” Historia shouted over the music.

She took Ymir’s hand and then dragged her out of the kitchen. Ymir had to lift her glass high to protect it from drunken idiots bumping into them. Historia pulled her through the dining room and out the glass doors, onto a massive patio where blue LED lights lit the ground and only a few people loitered.

“Your family is fucking rich,” Ymir pointed out. “It must be nice.”

Historia dropped her hand and went over to a nearby swing chair. Obediently, Ymir followed. “It is. It’s nice not to worry about money. But it’s lonely.”

Ymir shrugged. “I dunno, I wouldn’t mind being abandoned by my whole family if it meant I got all this.”

Historia sighed. “I used to think that way too. It gets old quickly.”

“Is that why you’re so mean? Because you’re bored?”

A little furrow formed between Historia’s brows. “I’m not, I mean…” She exhaled loudly. “I don’t make it a point to be horrible to everyone.”

“Except me.”

“You are an exception. I get something out of treating you like that.”

Ymir slurped her drink loudly, thinking. “Aren’t you worried that people will see us sitting here together?”

“Why? I’ll just deny it. What are they going to do, argue with me?”

 “Do people really worship you so much?”

“Stop drinking like that.”

“You don’t own me.”

Historia laughed. “You’re incredibly annoying, Ymir.”

Ymir fished a block of ice out with her tongue and sucked it into her mouth. She levelled Historia with the most unimpressed look she could. “Boo, your insults are getting lame. Or maybe I’m just getting used to them.”

Historia rolled her eyes and looked away. The night was actually incredibly beautiful, with stars scattered brightly across the clear sky. The vast yard had various lights here and there, and all were dim and blue. Ymir watched a couple giggle and stumble into the woods, and she squinted to see if the one was actually giving the other one a blowjob.

“Do you really starve often?” Historia suddenly asked her.

Ymir’s eyes cut to Historia’s face. “Yeah,” she answered. “It keeps me weak. His family are known to be big and strong, and when I started to get really tall he realized that I could easily get stronger than him. So he stopped buying food for the house and if he thinks I’ve had anything, he hits me.”

“Jesus. How are you still alive?”

“Well, I work by Reiner. I usually spend some of that money on food whenever it gets really bad.”

“Why not just spend it all on food? Why not keep a secret stash somewhere?”

Ymir suddenly felt uncomfortable, but she couldn’t deny that this felt… nice. “I’m saving most of it. And if he finds said secret stash, I don’t think he would hesitate to put me in the hospital.” She looked up at the stars and thought about the last time he had hit her, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. “When he gets angry, he drinks. When he drinks, he gets drunk really quickly, and he just… he loses his shit. I’m always the one he comes home to and hurts. Doesn’t matter what I’ve done or said, he’ll still treat me like the shit under his shoe.” She abandoned her empty cup on the floor.

A warm hand covered hers, but she didn’t look at Historia. She couldn’t. This felt unreal, fragile. She was afraid that if she looked, the moment would shatter and everything else would come rushing back in. She needed to delude herself into thinking Historia cared, event though it was emotional suicide and even though she knew it was hopeless.

“I can’t imagine living the life you do.”

“You shouldn’t try to. It’s not great.” She laughed bitterly. “Sometimes I really just want to kill myself, you know?”

“Ymir…”

“I’m not saying I will, I mean… those moments when I’m just on the floor in my own vomit because he kicked me so hard in the stomach, or when he kicks my spine and I can barely walk, I just want everything to end. I used to hate Ilse for what she did, but I understand it now. Sometimes I envy her.”

Historia suddenly appear in front of her, and then her cheek blossomed with heat when a slap cut across her face. It wasn’t vicious and it didn’t even hurt—Ymir had a high tolerance, but it was severe in its intent. Historia’s face was grave and her blue eyes were almost white in their intensity.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that to yourself,” she snarled at her. “You sound so pathetic when you talk about killing yourself.”

Ymir’s face warmed. She clenched her teeth hard. “What the fuck do you even know? How dare you slap me?”

Historia made to slap her again, but Ymir stood and caught her hand. Her grip was so tight she knew it must have hurt, but Historia didn’t wince. She looked so _furious_ and it made absolutely no sense.

“I’ll do whatever I want!” Historia shouted at her. She weakly punched her shoulder. “Just don’t ever try to take your own life.”

Ymir narrowed her eyes. “It’s not like you’d miss me. I’m sure you could find any dyke out there willing to fuck you.”

“What the fuck?” Historia’s face had gone almost purple. She yanked her hand back and then shoved Ymir in the chest. She barely stumbled. “You really think you mean so little? You really think that killing yourself is the answer?”

“What the fuck else do I have, Historia?” Ymir yelled at her. People around them were starting to look, and she thought she saw someone pull their phone out, but none of that mattered.

“You do!” Historia shot back. She lowered her voice. “Your life is yours, Ymir. Fuck anyone else who tries to make you feel anyway else. Your father is a dickbag and he’d be better as maggot food. That doesn’t mean you need to let him win by taking your own life. Don’t you realize that? Don’t you realize how smug that fucker will be if you decide to kill yourself too?”

The words hit Ymir really hard in the chest. She could see tears gathering in Historia’s eyes, and it was like a bulb suddenly lit inside her head. _Oh._ Oh god. “You actually care about me,” Ymir whispered, shocked.

Historia shoved her again. “Of course I fucking care about you,” she exclaimed. “I’ve never let anyone touch me the way you do. That’s not just because of what we do. It’s just… you make my chest burn like it’s on fucking fire. You infuriate me. I hate how out of control you make me feel. I hate how much I need you when you’re not with me.”

Ymir blinked. Historia’s voice was rising again, becoming frantic. Ymir glanced at the few people watching them. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this now,” she told her softly. All the fire had left her. “Unless you want everyone to hear.”

Historia’s eyes flashed. “Fuck everyone,” she growled. “I’m so tired of caring what other people think.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Historia sucked in a breath. “Ymir, I…” She looked away and bit down on her lip. Ymir watched her tiny fists clench hard. “I tried to commit suicide last year.” The confession was so soft that Ymir nearly missed it. When the words registered, Ymir felt the colour drain from her face. Her expression must have been serious, because Historia looked at her and cracked a sad smile.

“You—what?”

“Yeah. I got tired of it. If one of our maids hadn’t been cleaning late and stumbled on me in my room, I would be dead right now. My father had some therapist see me and basically live in my room, but eventually he stopped caring enough and let them leave. Sometimes I just don’t feel a thing, but, Ymir, sometimes…” Historia stepped forward and pressed a hand against Ymir’s chest, at the spot where she had punched earlier. “Sometimes I feel too much and I don’t know how to handle it.”

Ymir’s heart hurt. She and Historia stared at each other, something wordless passing between them. Ymir imagined a world in which Historia did not exist, and the thought filled her with crippling pain. Knowing that Historia actually cared about her changed the game completely. Because Ymir cared for her too. She cared so much—too much. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it before, because who would fall in love with someone like Historia fucking Reiss? But there she was, and there they were, bared completely for each other and yet, not looking away. She knew that no matter what she did, Historia would not leave. How hadn’t she realized it before? How hadn’t she realized that she—

“Historia?”

Hitch’s voice sliced between them like a blade, and Historia immediately dropped her hand. Ymir looked away to wipe at her eyes and compose herself.

“What, Hitch?”

“I, uh, was looking for you.” Hitch was staring between them. “Is everything okay? I heard someone say you were fighting and I got worried.”

Historia swept her hair out of her face and sighed. “It’s whatever. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did Ymir start shit with you? I can get Porco to kick her out if you want.”

Historia shook her head. “Ymir is fine. Is that all you need?”

Hitch gave Ymir a long, suspicious stare. She must have decided not to ask any other questions. “The guys want to get started with the game so I wanted to ask you if we could.”

Historia’s expression lightened. She looked almost devious then. “Oh! Yeah. Let’s go and do that. I can’t wait to watch all these idiots embarrass themselves.”

The two of them started for the door, but Ymir stood there and watched them. Historia stopped a few steps ahead and looked back. “Are you coming?” she asked her.

Ymir’s brows lifted. “Uh… sure.”

She followed the two of them through the crowd of teens into the lounge. There by the massive TV and speakers she spotted Porco and Marcel struggling with some cables. Ymir saw an incredible looking PC hooked up beside the TV and let out a low whistle.

Historia joined the two boys by the cables and chased them away. She then expertly plugged everything in, then grabbed a headset and two controllers. “Alright, everyone!” she shouted after the music switched off. “For those that don’t know, this game is called Beat Saber. It’s VR, so you put this _very expensive_ headset on and use these controllers to move your sabers. There’s a tutorial in game so I’m not explaining all of it. I’ll pick who goes and the person that impresses me the most, gets to…” she trailed off, grinning mischievously. If Ymir hadn’t been the other half of the fight, she wouldn’t have thought Historia had just come from a heated conversation. “Kiss me!” she finally finished.

The gathered inebriated teens all roared in delight, girls and boys alike. Historia’s eyes briefly found Ymir, something like a challenge in them, and then she picked some random guy from the crowd. He hurried forward to accept the devices and let Historia explain how to adjust everything to his liking.

Ymir crept to the corner of the room to watch. The lights were switched off and the speakers cranked up, and when the guy started to play people were cheering and laughing. His coordination was off and he messed up so quickly that only a few seconds in he failed the level. Historia took the headset from him and called another person, this one a tall girl that Ymir had never seen before.

So it went, people playing whichever song they wanted on whichever difficulty, and if they failed the level they were out of the running. If they passed, their scores were kept and tallied. An hour into it the room stank of sweat and spilled alcohol, but people were having an absolute blast. The tall girl who played second was the current winner, and she was giving Historia sex eyes all fucking night. Ymir tried to glare holes into her, but of course the girl didn’t even know she existed.

How fucking hard could it be, though?

Hitch finished playing a complicated song on hard difficulty, stunning most of the room. When she pulled the headset off, she looked incredibly smug and went to join Mina off to the side, who whispered something in her ear. Ymir watched them curiously.

“Alright, last person! Logan is still winning, y’all! If no one steps up now, she gets to kiss me!”

Everyone yelled. Hands shot up and waved, desperate kids wanting to prove themselves and get a chance with the hottest girl ever. Ymir shoved her way through the people and walked up to Historia, expression fierce. The crowd immediately silenced, with some people wondering aloud what _she_ was doing there and would Historia _seriously_ let her play?

Historia didn’t offer the headset but Ymir took it anyway. She’d studied all the participants as they played so she had a pretty good grip on how to play this.

“The feared, big bad butch Ymir has decided to play!” Historia shouted, grinning. “Do y’all think she has what it takes?”

So many various answers were shouted back that it sounded like Historia had just summoned a demon, but the main mood of the room was that Ymir certainly wasn’t worthy. That just made her want to do this even more.

“She can try!” Hitch laughed. “As if she’d even win. As if Hissy would actually kiss her!” Everyone laughed with, agreeing.

Ymir gave Hitch a very big, very naughty grin that shut her up and made her visibly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just that she was _sure_ she would win, it was that she had kissed more than just Historia’s mouth and Hitch had absolutely no clue.

“Let the sabering begin!”

Ymir put the headset on, adjusted the height and then went through the songs. She took her sweet time just to annoy everyone, then she selected something that sounded dark and angry and set it to fast expert plus—the absolute highest difficulty. Someone shouted that she’d selected wrong, but she ignored them. People started to whisper that she was going to embarrass herself, but again, she ignored them

Historia gave her hand a soft caress that no one saw, and then Ymir started the song. It was disorienting at first, being inside of the game. Her entire field of vision was swallowed up by the black and red arena of Beat Saber, and when the red and blue blocks started racing towards her, she needed to focus every tiny bit of her brain. She missed the very first beat, flushing when the crowd cheered in delight at her failure, then forced herself to hit every one after. The beats came in incredibly fast and in multiple directions, so close together and jumbled up on occasion that it was starting to make her sweat. Everyone else had tired themselves out, but playing at the highest difficult was _not_ easy and Ymir knew she probably looked stupid with how she was whipping her arms around.

She really got into the song and enjoyed every time she managed to hit a complicated beat and by the end of the song people were actually cheering for her. When she pulled the headset off her sweaty face she saw looks of awe on people’s faces, but most importantly on Historia’s. By Historia’s naughty grin, she knew she had won.

Historia took the devices from her and put everything away, switching the game off. While she did people started a loud chant of “kiss her, kiss her!” and Ymir stood in the centre of the room, arms hanging lamely by her sides as she breathed heavily from the exertion and hoped she didn’t smell like sweat.

“And with that, Ymir is the winner!” Historia announced, much to Logan’s devastated disappointment. “Should I reward her?”

Some people shouted that yes, she very much should and others said fuck no. Ymir combed her damp hair back and watched Historia swagger over to her. Before anyone else could say anything, Historia tugged her down and kissed her. It wasn’t a peck, either. It was tongue and teeth and Ymir wrapped her arms around Historia to keep their balance. As expected, everyone started to scream and jeer. In that moment, as Historia’s tongue slid across hers and Historia’s fingers slid into her hair, the noises all melted away. There was nothing but the two of them, their rapidly beating hearts and their lips brushing together. Then Historia pulled away from her with a slightly dazed expression, and then she was gone.

The crowd dispersed and someone switched the music and lights back on. Ymir stood there, lips parted and tingling and her hands holding nothing. She swallowed and wondered if she should go home, but decided not to. If she was going to risk getting her ass beat, she might as well get fucking hammered and enjoy the night. That’s exactly what she did.

She grabbed a drink from the kitchen and went to stand in the lounge again, where couples were dancing hungrily against each other. Three drinks in, Ymir spotted Reiner through the crowd and tossed her empty bottle onto a nearby couch to follow him. He went to the patio where Ymir and Historia had been earlier, and he stared up at the sky.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Ymir drawled a little drunkenly.

Reiner jumped. “Jesus, Ymir! Don’t sneak up on a guy.”

She snickered. “Sorry.”

“Fancy seeing _you_ here. I thought you hated Historia.”

They both went over to the railing around the patio and Ymir leaned against it to keep her balance. “Far from it, actually,” she admitted.

“Damn.” He didn’t ask questions, thankfully.

Ymir wanted to ask him questions about why he was there, why he looked so serious when there was so much alcohol to be had, when her phone vibrated.

**Historia  
**meet me by the stairs. time to keep your promise from earlier

Ymir’s stomach clenched with arousal. “Well, looks like my talents are needed.” Reiner gave her a confused look, but she just clapped him on the shoulder and then headed back inside. A lot of people had collapsed and fallen asleep on the various furniture—floor included—and the party was definitely dying down. She found Historia heading up the stairs and hurried after her. Her heart started to pound hard, not simply due to the alcohol but also in anticipation. She didn’t just want to fuck the shit out of Historia, she wanted to show her exactly how much she cared about her. She was drunk enough to admit that.

All the people wandering down the hallway were incredibly drunk—and so too was Historia, apparently—because halfway to her room she stopped and pulled Ymir to her. Ymir went gladly. She groaned against Historia’s mouth and welcomed the graze of her tongue. They kissed and touched right there in the open until Historia tore herself away and carried on to her room, Ymir’s hand clutched tightly in her own.

When they got to the door, Historia opened it behind her and then pulled Ymir down again. They stumbled into her room with their lips locked, Ymir’s hand underneath Historia’s shirt, but twin gasps startled them out of their aroused bubble and they pulled apart. Historia gasped as well when Hitch and Mina stared at the two of them, eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” Hitch gasped out. She was hurriedly trying to pull her hand out of Mina’s pants and pull her shirt down over her exposed breasts.

Historia inhaled. “Are you two seriously fucking in my room? On my _fucking couch?”_

Ymir realized, sadly, that there would probably be no sex to have after this. She sadly closed the door and went to lay down on the bed.

“No, you don’t get to start yelling at me!” Hitch yelled at her.

“Girls, please,” Mina interjected. “Let’s just—Historia, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh please, she was probably three fingers deep inside of you,” Historia shot back. “Is this it? You two are fucking?”

Hitch made a noise in her throat. “Before we even get to that, let’s unpack this!” She gestured to Ymir. “Why the fuck were you stumbling in here kissing _her_.”

“Excuse me—”

“Ymir, shut up,” Historia cut her off. Ymir huffed and dropped her head back down.

“Whatever, your majesty.”

Historia turned back to Hitch. “We were coming here to fuck, obviously.”

“Oh wow,” Mina commented softly. “You just admitted that out right. Kudos.”

“Don’t be impressed with her!” Hitch nearly shrieked. “Historia and Ymir? This is fucking madness!”

“Hitch, maybe—”

“No Mina, not _maybe_.”

“Can you please fix your shirt Mina, for god’s sake,” Historia groaned. “I can’t believe you were fucking behind my back and then doing it on my couch. _My_ couch, in _my_ room that you know I keep sacred at these parties.”

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from!” Hitch helped Mina up and then stalked towards Historia. The amount of anger and hurt on her face made Ymir concerned, so she stood and towered behind Historia, eyes fierce. “Oh, what?” Hitch stopped, scoffing. “Are you her big body guard now? What the fuck? Historia, please.” She stepped forward and touched her arm. “You can’t be sleeping with her. You know what people say about her.”

Historia’s expression was severe. “I don’t care what people think, Hitch. I do what I want.”

“I don’t care about that. I’m just terrified that she like, hurts you!”

Ymir had heard enough. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here!”

“Ymir—”

“No, you shut up now Historia,” she snarled. “Hitch, shut the fuck up. Congrats on this thing with Mina because lord knows we all need to get laid, but you have no right to tell Historia who she can be with. And what the fuck, man? You don’t even know me. I’d never hurt Historia the way you’re insinuating. And don’t insult her by making it seem like she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, because as you’ve seen before, she can and will destroy me if she wants to.”

All three pairs of eyes stared at her in surprise. Hitch looked back to Historia, then she huffed. She took Mina’s hand and silently the two of them left the room. Ymir rubbed a hand over her face. “I should probably head home,” she said. “I’m exhausted and the mood is ruined. I couldn’t even fuck myself right now.”

Historia looked a thousand miles away. She didn’t respond for a while, staring forlornly at her door where her friends had fled. Ymir had to lightly poke her side. “Sorry.” She took the hand that had poked her and threaded their fingers together. Ymir’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t go.”

“I…” Ymir licked her lips. Honestly, what was the point of worrying about her father anymore? He fucked her up no matter what she did. Maybe it was time she started to live life how she wanted, consequences be damned. Though her instincts told her to say no, she ignored them. “Okay. Want me to help you kick everyone out?”

Historia shook her head. “No. Go take a shower and get in bed. I’ll get Marcel to help me. I’ll be back when everyone is gone.” She disappeared out the door then.

When the music switched off the mansion sounded eerily silent. Ymir did as instructed and had a quick shower, then slipped into Historia’s bed nude. She didn’t want to put her sweaty clothes back on, just in case.

Historia returned just as Ymir was falling asleep. She woke up when the bed dipped and Historia got in with her, naked as well and hair damp.

“Hey,” Ymir greeted her softly.

Historia sighed softly when their bodies pressed together. “So much better without clothes,” she sighed.

“Mm-hmm.” Ymir wrapped her arms around her.

They were impossibly warm. Historia’s breasts pressed against her own, and they were so soft. Her nipples were hard points and her skin was smooth, so Ymir gently traced lines along Historia’s sides. Historia nuzzled against her, and then they were kissing. They didn’t say anything. The moon filled the room with soft silver light, and Ymir pushed Historia onto her back. She settled her hips between Historia’s thighs and moved against her, rewarded with wetness and a needy moan.

It was entirely different this time. Ymir slid a hand down between them and let two fingers sink inside, and Historia’s sigh was one of relief, of happiness. Ymir didn’t pound into her, but she moved with dedicated slowness. They continued to kiss and caress each other, and Historia’s hand found her wetness as well. Ymir groaned when Historia entered her, and then they gently rocked against each other, thrusting and moving, the pleasure building with every beat of their hearts. They were so impossibly warm, and then they grew even hotter.

Somehow, they came together. Historia clenched down around her fingers as the orgasm hit, and Ymir swallowed every one of Historia’s moans. They continued to move against each other, softly and slowly, and when they finally relaxed, they pulled out. Ymir turned them around and let Historia spread out atop her, tangling their legs. Historia’s ragged breaths washed over her chest.

“So, that was…” Historia said softly, voice a little hoarse.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

They didn’t speak again. Ymir simply held onto Historia and let herself think. She felt consumed by the girl in her arms, and she realized with a little bit of panic what they had just done.

They had made love.

XxX

Her father didn’t return home until late Monday morning, and when he did, she tensed by her desk and waited to see where he would go. His heavy footsteps thundered around the house but he, thankfully, didn’t bother her.

She hadn't really spoken to Historia since the party, and when they passed by each other at school Historia seemed a million miles away. They met for their usual session in the same stall, but it was… different. Neither of them spoke about it, and when it was done Historia left in a hurry and Ymir had to wash her fingers off alone.

Wednesday, Ymir walked slowly home from school. She couldn't stop thinking about Historia, and she hated the feeling that Historia was avoiding her. She decided four days was enough to pretend like nothing had happened.

**Ymir**  
so i want to ask you something

She wondered if Historia would ignore her message, but it was read immediately.

**Historia**  
sure

**Ymir**  
uh… about what happened after the party. when we were in bed

**Historia**  
when we fucked

**Ymir**  
historia. that wasnt fucking.

**Historia**  
why are you bringing this up

**Ymir**  
you admitted that you care about me

**Historia**  
so? do you want some declaration of love? for me to give my heart to you forever and ever? its just sex. Its always been just sex.

Ymir swallowed. Part of her wanted to argue, but Historia was right. Maybe she did care a little, but there was no way she felt what Ymir was feeling.

_I think I might be falling in love,_ she admitted to herself. _But she’s only in lust with me. Why would she be with someone like me, anyway? I’m broken and fucked up, and there are many other people better than me._

Ymir physically felt her heart break in two. She knew she would be okay, though. No matter what happened, she always survived somehow. Though she was really starting to wonder why she was still surviving at all.

**Ymir**  
yeah. sorry. forget i said anything

**Historia**  
already did

She put her phone away and strode past her father’s car in the driveway. He was home early, but whatever. A sick part if her wanted him to hit her. To punish her. That's what she deserved for wanting someone to love her.

When she stepped inside the house her father called for her from the lounge. He sounded oddly cheerful, which immediately made her uneasy. She found him sitting on his couch, and across from him was a man Ymir didn’t recognize.

“Ah, there she is,” the man said, beaming at her. He stood and offered his hand. “My name is Charles.”

Ymir nervously shook his hand. Her father was smiling at her, but she knew him long enough to know that underneath the good act he was furious. Her heart started to pound.

“Uh, hi.”

“Ymir, Charles is here to interview you. About the mother and child you rescued.” He stood and walked over to her. To anyone else he looked proud, but Ymir knew that by the end of the night she would be badly hurt. “Why didn’t you let me know? That was such a brave and heroic thing you did.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

“I, um, didn’t want to bother you about it,” she responded nervously.

Charles laughed. “No need to be so modest! You’ve helped to put a very dangerous man behind bars for the rest of his life.”

She straightened, eyes widening, and her father’s grip turned bruising. “Are they okay?” Ymir asked. “Veronica and Tyler?”

“Both perfectly fine. I saw them just this morning, actually. Tyler asked me to give this to you.”

He held out his hand. Resting in his palm was a small elephant keychain. She took it gently and ran her finger over the smooth plastic.

“Thank you.”

“Let me get some tea for everyone. Let you two get started,” her father said pleasantly, and then he left.

Ymir sat down next to Charles. Her palms were so sweaty that the elephant nearly slipped from her fingers. Charles started asking her questions, from how she knew Tyler and Veronica to how she had known to run over there. Halfway through explaining how she had climbed in through the window, her father returned with tea. Ymir was given one too, and she shakily accepted it. Her father’s brown eyes were dark and Ymir couldn't look at them. Her stomach started to cramp hard.

“…so, I ran downstairs and then hit him over the head with a pan,” she finally concluded.

Charles typed everything out on his small laptop, his expression that of awe and shock. When he was done, he closed his laptop and then slipped it into his bag.

“Ymir, Mr Fritz, thank you so much for your time. I’ll send an email of the article before it gets published.”

Ymir’s father stood and escorted him out. Ymir remained seated, staring at the elephant in her hand as the fear started to build in her belly. The cup of tea was too hot but she barely felt it. She listened to her father say something funny to Charles, making him laugh, and then the door clicked shut and his heavy footsteps drew near.

Ymir waited for it. He returned to his seat and then he just silently stared at her. His burning gaze made Ymir incredibly uncomfortable. She couldn't deal with the silence.

“Dad—”

He stood and slapped the cup of tea out of her hand. It shattered against the wall next to them and the scorching tea soaked into her pants, burning her skin. He hasn't added any milk because he had probably hoped to throw the hot water on her.

“You think you’re hot shit now, don’t you?”

He towered over her. Ymir swallowed and stared up at him in fear. “I don’t—”

He slapped her. “Yes, you don’t!” he roared. “You don’t get to sneak out whenever you want! You don’t get to visit friends, hell you don’t even get to _have_ friends.”

Ymir stared down at his heavy-duty shoes, her face burning from the slap and also burning with shame. Her stomach felt like it was twisting apart inside of her and she bit down hard on her lip.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Huh?” His fingers slid into her hair, and then he pulled hard to make her look at him. “Look me in the eyes when you apologize, Ymir.”

Ymir didn’t want to. She didn’t want to look into his face, so similar to hers, and see nothing but disdain. Heavy emotions were starting to build inside of her and she was afraid of what would happen. When her father moved slightly, she flinched. He seemed amused by that. It was more frightening to have him like this, running on nothing but anger. When he was drunk it was easier. It was always easier to convince herself he only did this because he was drinking. Now, there was no excuse. Now, he just wanted to hurt her.

“From now on you will have no freedom.” He shoved her away from him. “I’m going to personally drive you to school and pick you up. I’ve already installed new locks, so you won’t be able to leave whenever you fucking feel like it. You’ve taken me for a fool for the last time.”

Ymir’s heart felt like it stopped. No freedom? Her head whipped up to stare at him. He was still looming, sneering down at her. He had all of the power and he knew it. She never realized before, how privileged she had been. How much she had gotten away with. She pictured how her life would be after this, the depression she knew would thicken. No freedom meant her job at the Braun club was over. No freedom meant no walking through quiet streets when the loneliness got too much, no visiting Historia when she had a need. That was no life. That wasn’t living.

Ymir wanted to die.

“You can’t!” she shouted at him, tears spilling over her cheeks. “Why must you make my life so fucking miserable?”

She got up and went for him. Her body was running on nothing but suicidal abandon. If she got to hurt him, awesome. If he killed her, even better. She was absolutely done with her life and with him.

He wasn’t expecting her to fight back, so when her fist cracked against his face he stumbled and fell. She was on him instantly, hitting and scratching and screaming. It didn’t take long for him to grab her hands and wrap his arms around her. He punched her hard in the stomach to shut her up, and then he lifted her up and started to drag her across the room.

“Let’s cool the hero off!” he shouted angrily. “Since she’s feeling so hot and important!”

She kicked and struggled and screamed, but he was so fucking strong. She wasn’t a match at all and she couldn’t break away from him, but she certainly made it difficult on him. He grunted when she made him lose balance, but then he grabbed her throat and squeezed too hard. She could do nothing but scratch at his hand until he let go.

They entered the bathroom and he slammed her face down against the rim of the bath. She cried out in pain but he ignored her and started the water. They had a detachable shower head, so he switched the flow of water to that and then he pushed her head into the tub. She screamed when the hot water splashed across her skin.

“Think you can just fight back?” he screamed at her. “You’re pathetic, Ymir. Fucking pathetic. You can’t fight shit. Without me you’d have been dead on the street.” He pulled the water away and Ymir sputtered for air. She coughed violently and tried to get out, but he had an iron grip on her. “Oh, still feel like fighting? Damn, guess I didn’t cool you off enough.” The boiling hot water returned.

Ymir screamed. She screamed until her throat and lungs burnt and she wondered if her skin would melt off. He laughed wickedly at her, so she stopped resisting. She stopped pushing against him and trying to breath through the stream of water, and when he felt her will disappear, he shut the water off. The only sound was their heavy breathing and the hot water dripping from her face.

“See, Ymir?” he said softly, stroking the side of the jaw. “You can’t do a damn thing.” He sighed, like he was genuinely pained. Ymir couldn’t feel her face. “Do you want to know something, Ymir? Your mother never left. She died.”

Ymir shut her eyes tightly and sobbed.

“Oh yeah,” he continued, laughing. “She killed herself in this bath right here. Your sister knew, she found her. She couldn’t handle me, I guess. Then your sister went and copied her. Ymir, if you can’t even make yourself useful…” he finally let her go and stood. Like he had expected, she merely slumped against the side of the bath. “Then maybe just follow in their footsteps. Make it a Fritz family tradition.”

He left her there in the bathroom, his cruel words wrapping around Ymir’s entire body. She didn’t know how long she just sat there. Her muscles ached and her legs had gone numb. Her skin felt raw and her nose burnt from inhaling so much water. Eventually she gathered the strength to get up, and then she limped to her room.

There was nothing. There was the physical pain, but as the hours went by she stopped feeling even that. Her emotions, the wounds, none of it registered. It felt like it was happening to someone else. Ymir felt like she was outside of her body, watching herself fall apart. All of the depression and anguish and anger, it just completely drained away.

He was right. She was just a useless, pathetic waste of space. No one would miss her if she disappeared. She would be easy to replace, especially for her father.

Ymir wondered what her mother looked like. She thought about her sister, of what she remembered about her, and she thought very hard about the red bath her sister had died in. She wondered what that would feel like, the blissful nothingness of death.

Maybe it was time to find out. But first, she just needed to sleep. Nothing else mattered but closing her eyes and slipping off into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome. Say hi at my tumblr danijaynel


	9. Another overbearing suicide, and it’s the same old trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide – Seether

Historia just felt so fucking _annoyed_ at the entire world. Nothing was specifically annoying her, but she woke up and felt annoyed. She went to school and felt annoyed. Her friends nervously greeted her: annoyed.

She knew that what she and Ymir had done over the weekend, that hadn’t been just aggressive, mindless sex. She had let Ymir touch her with more than just desire. _She_ had touched Ymir with more than just desire. It had been such a along time since she had allowed herself to feel these things and it terrified her.

When Ymir texted her about it, she had freaked out. She hated how horrible she had been because she knew Ymir didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve to be dismissed like that. But what the fuck did Ymir even see in her? She was an arrogant, horrible brat. People only ever gave her attention because she was attractive and rich, and she knew that. That’s why she never let anyone in.

Caring for someone meant getting hurt: hurt like she had been, all those years ago when her mother had carelessly watched the men in her life abuse her daughter. Historia had watched her mother die, but she had sobbed the entire time. Every second of that day haunted her to the point that she _still_ woke up screaming sometimes.

She probably needed to see someone about it. Her father didn’t know she had been the one to stab Alma. He probably had his suspicions, but when the police had contacted him about her, since he was her biological father, he had agreed to take her in. All records of the crime and of Alma’s death were scrubbed from the records, and anyone that had been there swore they didn’t know a thing.

He had covered for her. Only out of obligation, she knew. He gave more attention to his actual children and he always treated Historia like she was an afterthought. At first it had bothered her a lot, and she had constantly battled with depression and self-loathing. Hell, she still did. Only a year back she had tried to end her own fucking life.

Why did Ymir have to care about her? She wasn’t worth shit to care about, because she didn’t want to be. She lived this life for _herself_ and no one fucking else, and that meant she didn’t have the patience or time for a partner.

“Historia?”

She looked up from her phone, feeling dazed and disoriented from being so deep in her own mind. “Uh, yeah?”

School was over and they were having milkshakes in town. Mina and Hitch sat across from her, but she hadn’t even registered them there. They were staring at her with concern.

“Are you okay?” Mina asked her.

Historia threw her phone down on the table. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Hitch’s brows drew together. “Look, His, we need to talk. About what happened at the party.”

“It’s fine. I know what happened.”

“No, I mean… not really about you and Ymir, but I want to talk to you about us.” She looked at Mina and smiled. “About Mina and myself.”

Historia crossed her arms over her chest. “Sure.”

“We weren’t trying to hide it from you,” Hitch told her. “It’s just… you can be a little absent sometimes, so we felt like you wouldn’t really care. It was all just sex at first, but then…” she trailed off, cheeks reddening. Historia stared openly at them, waiting. “We fell in love.”

Mina flushed as well. They linked hands atop the table. “It was weird at first because we’ve been friends forever, but I’ve always felt like this,” Mina said.

“So,” Hitch continued. “We wanted to formally tell you, that we’re in a serious relationship. We’re already planning on moving in together after school. So, yeah. That’s it.”

Historia looked away from them. A dark feeling coiled in her belly after listening to them and seeing the way they looked at each other—so happy, so satisfied. It was jealousy she felt; she knew that. But she hated that she felt it.

“I’m happy for you two,” she finally said, quietly. She still didn’t look at them. “I really mean it.”

“That’s… Historia, thank you. That’s wonderful to hear from you.”

“Historia,” Mina said. “Do you want to talk about Ymir?”

“No.” Historia turned abruptly and glared at them. “She’s nothing, okay? It’s just sex. I don’t care about her.”

They both frowned at her. “No one said you care about her,” Hitch pointed out.

Historia felt herself getting flustered. “Just drop it, please.”

“Fine. Whatever. Despite how aloof you act, I know you’ve got emotions in there somewhere. We care about you, Historia. You’re our friend. I’d fight Ymir myself if I need to, for you.”

Historia felt her lips twitch. Hitch’s words warmed her chest, but she looked away again and pretended like it hadn’t. But Hitch kept staring at her, and Historia knew she was incredibly sharp and very good at reading unspoken words. Thankfully they dropped the topic, but Historia continued the conversation in her head.

Was this really the way to live? With everyone else an arm’s length away? She thought of Ymir, of how much she actually cared, and it hurt.

The weekend came by slowly. Her siblings were back in town, so her parents were actually in the mansion for more than a few hours. They had the house workers bustling about to clean and set up the dining room and cook, but Historia spent all that time in her room alone. The way she was feeling, she didn’t trust herself not to say something mean to her parents. Her father was a nice man, but he could get pretty upset if she disrespected him.

“Knock, knock!”

Historia looked up when her door opened. “I never said you could come in.”

Abel popped his head in, grinning widely. “I did knock!”

“You said it, you didn’t actually knock.”

He stepped in, and behind him were the rest of the siblings. They all piled into her room and went to collapse on her bed and floor, and Abel joined her on the couch. Historia rolled her eyes at them, but a tiny part of her, deep, deep inside, felt a little better having them there.

“What’s our baby sister been up to?” Florian asked. She had cut her long hair off into an undercut, and it actually suited her really well.

“We hardly hear from you,” Frieda said. Unlike the others, she didn’t have blonde hair. She was the only one of the six of them that had black hair like their father. It was cut short in a bob and she looked beautiful. Both Florian and Frieda were absolutely beautiful women, and Historia felt like a little foolish girl in comparison.

Her siblings seemed somehow older since the last time she had seen them. More mature, more stable and surer of themselves. Abel was the second youngest, but he still looked like an actual adult man.

“Um, I’m okay,” she told them.

“Bullshit,” Urklyn shot from his seat on the floor. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You look sad as shit.”

Frieda reached over and slapped him upside the head. “This is why you’ll die single, dipshit. You need to be more subtle.”

“Stop being so violent,” Dirk hissed beside Urklyn, only earning himself Frieda’s glare.

Urklyn swatted her hand away. “Hey! Historia appreciates honesty. Right, little sister?”

Historia looked at them. Florian was pointedly ignoring them to type away on her phone while Urklyn and Frieda glared at each other. Abel stood to try and mediate some sort of peace between them, but they would bicker anyway, especially with Dirk inciting them like he was the devil’s advocate—but really, he just liked to cause shit.

Historia couldn’t stop herself from laughing. It was so strange to her, that her adult siblings would all gather in her room to just bicker and concern themselves with her. She was slowly starting to realize that her cold view of the world was completely and unfairly subjective.

“Do you guys think mom and dad love me?”

All bickering and whining came to an abrupt halt. Frieda was even mid slap. Their blue eyes—identical to her own—stared at her, wide and shocked.

“His,” Abel said, dropping back down beside her. “Of course they do.”

The others all joined on the couch. It was a tight fit but with a bit of overlapping limbs, they managed. Historia ended up basically on her brother’s lap, but he gave her a tight hug and she instinctively hugged him back. Tears sprang to her eyes when her other siblings leaned in to join the hug, and then they collapsed off the couch, swearing and groaning and Historia had to crawl out before they killed her.

“I swear, I’m the youngest here but you all act like children!” she scolded them.

Urklyn and Frieda were wrestling again, with Dirk jeering them on. Abel, Florian and Historia crawled away until they were leaning against her bed. They watched brother and sister duke it out. Dirk was recording it on his phone.

“You have to admit,” Florian said, grinning. “We make for an interesting family.”

She slipped her hand against Historia’s and intertwined their fingers. Abel did the same, and then they gave her hands a soft squeeze.

“I’m sorry we abandon you so much,” Abel told her. “You know we love you. Dad and mom are just a bit… absent. None of us like to visit much. But you know, you’re totally invited to visit me whenever you feel like you need a break.”

“Yeah!” Florian agreed. “I have a spare room just for you. I keep forgetting to offer, actually. Sorry about that.”

“I’ve got a pool!” Frieda called from underneath Urklyn. He was cackling and trying to rub her face in his armpit. “If you want to swim whenever.”

“Put your foot in her mouth!” Dirk cheered.

Historia smiled at them. “I’d like that, thank you.”

They didn’t know that she had attempted suicide. She had begged her father not to tell anyone, because she knew that if they had found out, they would have all moved back in just to watch her. Her heart ached badly when she realized how much she actually loved her brothers and sisters, and how much they loved her.

How had she been so arrogant as to think she was alone in the world? It was harrowing, being hit with so many inward truth bombs one after the other. She knew she cared for Ymir, and maybe that could turn into something. Maybe Ymir really did care about her too, and maybe they could be there for each other and be the support they so lacked elsewhere.

“So,” Florian asked, poking her lightly in the ribs. “Who is this Ymir girl?”

Historia’s face turned red.

“Oh, lord she’s blushing,” Abel laughed.

“I saw some pics on Instagram,” Florian added. She made some kissing noises. “Looked pretty steamy. Is she a girlfriend?”

Historia hid her face. “It’s none of your business.”

“Guys, stop fucking around and come and listen to Historia tell us about her girlfriend!” Abel called out.

In seconds Urklyn, Frieda and Dirk scurried over to them. Frieda looked more concerned than anything and Urklyn looked pleased. Dirk was still recording.

“Ooh, is it serious?” Urklyn asked.

Historia hated their stares and it made her blush badly. She covered her face with her arms. “No, be gone!” she yelled, voice shaking. “She’s not my girlfriend!”

Her siblings started to laugh and tease her. The fact that she kept getting redder in the face only amused them more. Historia couldn’t deny herself the fact that she was actually having a good time, some inappropriate jokes aside. She eventually stopped denying it, and told them about Ymir—all PG information. She left the most worrying details out and gave them a very flowered version of her and Ymir’s sort of relationship. They stopped joking around and turned very serious, because Historia knew she had never spoken to them about a possible partner before. When she was done, her heart ached and her siblings were left speechless.

“Dang,” Abel breathed.

“You’ve got it bad,” Frieda added.

Historia flushed again. “Do not.”

“Don’t keep lying to yourself, dummy,” Florian shot back. “If you love this girl, then show her. Life is so short and chaotic and you deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah.” Urklyn nodded. “Go get your girl, His. Don’t let some stupid fears hold you back.”

“I dare you to get married before Florian does,” Dirk joked.

Historia sighed. It wasn’t so easy. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if Ymir didn’t want anything to do with her after the harsh dismissal she gave. Thinking about it, she was hit by a sharp stab of guilt. Ymir didn’t deserve that.

“Rod, where did the children go?” they heard Angelica call from the stairs.

Their group fell silent.

“I don’t know honey, call one of them,” their father responded.

“They aren’t answering!” she cried out.

The six of them laughed softly.

“Let’s hide,” Abel suggested. “Make her look hard for us.”

It was stupid and childish, but Historia joined them. They went and hid in various places around the house, always staying in a group even though that made them easier to find. When Angelica eventually did find them, she was very unimpressed. They didn’t care, though.

At dinner, the six of them kept the conversation going while their two parents quietly ate their food. Historia saw her father watch them, and she couldn’t help but notice it—the love and affection on his face.

Her chest hurt.

XxX

Monday Ymir still didn’t show up to school. Historia’s worries deepened and she wanted to message her, but a large part of her was too afraid. She didn’t want to care that much, but she did. Ymir didn’t show up the rest of the week. On Friday after school she bumped into Mr Ackerman walking to his car. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Historia briefly considered asking him about Ymir, but thought better of it. When he spotted her, he immediately walked over.

“Historia, when last did you hear from Ymir?”

The worry she had been trying hard to ignore flared up. “Uh, last Wednesday afternoon.”

He cursed softly. “Have you tried to call or message her?”

“What’s happening?”

“When she missed last Thursday, I messaged her to ask if she was alright. I still haven’t received any responses. Her phone was eventually switched off. I tried calling her father too, but he didn’t answer. I know she has it rough, but she never ignores her phone for this long.”

He looked genuinely distraught. Historia could feel that her hands were shaking badly and her heart was pounding in panic. She swallowed it all down. “Do you think he seriously hurt her this time?”

The grey in Levi’s eyes seemed almost black. “I’m terrified that he did.”

She licked her dry lips. “Then we should go there and see if she’s okay.”

He looked away, clearly conflicted. “If he’s just keeping her home, we could complicate things.”

Historia did something she never would have expected herself to do before. She reached out and took Mr Ackerman’s hand. His skin was incredibly cold, but he was shaking badly. “Mr Ackerman, I know Ymir. She’s a strong person, but her father breaks her down. If he’s done something really bad, I don’t think she’ll be able to do anything on her own. She needs us to force her to do it. We can’t…” she swallowed. “We can’t just sit by and watch anymore.”

He slowly nodded, like he had been desperately waiting for those exact words. “I’m heading over there now.”

He made to walk away, but Historia gripped his hand hard. “Sir, let me come with!”

“No. It might be dangerous. Mr Fritz is an incredibly violent man.”

“Exactly! With all due respect, you are a very small person Mr Ackerman. You might get seriously injured. If something happened to Ymir, I’m the best person to help her!”

He stared hard at her, then he pulled his hand away and sighed. “Fine. But please let your family know where you are going.”

She shot a message off to her sibling group chat, being vague but letting them know the address in case something happened. Her phone started to blow up with messages but she ignored them, because she didn’t want to chicken out of this. If she was being honest, she was terrified.

Mr Ackerman drove them there quickly. He broke multiple road laws and got at least three people to stop in the middle of the road and throw a middle finger, but he kept his foot down on the pedal. When they finally pulled into the driveway, they both hurried up the path to the door. Mr Ackerman pounded his fist against the door seven times, and then they heard a crash.

XxX

For days and days, Ymir planned her death. There wasn’t much to plan besides the final act, because any possession she had would be sold by her father. No one in her life cared enough to miss her, so there were no farewells to give. She knew maybe Levi would be upset, but he would get over it. He’d been through worse.

Two days after getting her face burned raw, she switched her phone off. There was no point, really. She stayed in her room and slept, and when her father came home angry, he invaded her room to pull her out of her bed and hit her or kick her. She lost count of how many bruises he had given her. She no longer fought back or even reacted much when he hurt her, and that only seemed to make him angrier every time.

“I broke you, huh?” he had snarled down at her, then he had dug the tip of his boot into her stomach and Ymir saw stars.

She felt like she was floating in a haze of physical exhaustion and pain. She always woke up on the floor in some part of the house and she was always confused when she woke up in her bed. He seemed intent on hurting her daily, so he did, and Ymir just stopped caring.

A week later, Ymir finally went for a bath. She had gone so long without eating that she felt constantly sick and she could barely walk. She thought he probably broke her leg somewhere. Every step sent hot, fierce pain through her and she had to bite down hard to stop from crying out.

When the water was in and the bathroom door closed, she eased herself in. She spotted a pack of razor blades sitting on the edge of the tub, and she knew her father had left them for her. She reached out and took one, and watched little droplets slide across the thin edge.

The only thing Ymir felt was acute pain and loneliness. She felt empty—devoid of life. She was already a walking, limping corpse. She set the blade against the skin on her wrist.

Ymir sat there in the warm water, steam curling up around her and caressing her sore face, and she pressed the blade against her skin until a thin line of blood speckled and dripped into the water. But she didn’t slide it. She didn’t move it an inch, and eventually dipped her head and started to sob.

“I don’t want to be nothing,” she cried to herself, to no one.

Is this all she had? The kiss of a blade? Was this all she was worth, to spill her blood in the water and make the mess someone else’s problem?

_“You really think you mean so little? You really think that killing yourself is the answer?”_

Historia’s voice invaded her mind sharper than the edge of the blade. She scrunched her eyes shut and pressed a fist against her throbbing temple.

“No!” she cried out to the voice, the words. “I’m not—”

_“Your life is yours, Ymir. Fuck anyone else who tries to make you feel anyway else. Of course, I fucking care about you. Don’t you ever fucking do that to yourself.”_

Even if they were a lie, even if they meant nothing, the reminder of what Historia had said to her made Ymir’s grip on the blade ease. Cold, pure fear filled her body. She didn’t want to die. The numbness was starting to fade away and in came all of the emotions. She screamed and threw the blade across the room.

How dare he? How dare that piece of shit do something so vile to his own fucking daughter?

“Ymir?” he called from the other side of the door. “Why did you scream?”

Ymir started to breathe hard. Tiny droplets of blood leaked out of the mild cut, but she was alright. The horrible emptiness was gone and in its place Ymir felt an ocean of fury the likes of which she had never felt before.

_This is my life,_ she thought furiously. _He can’t do with it as he pleases._

She ignored her father and dragged her beaten body from the bath. She didn’t even bother to pull the plug, and put her clothes on over her wet body. His footsteps disappeared down the hallway, so he must have given up on an answer.

By the time Ymir limped into the kitchen, she was breathing unsteadily. Every fucking step hurt. Every fucking breath was agony. But she went through the cupboard underneath the sink and grabbed the hammer. She limped into the lounge and there he was, sitting on his couch and staring at the TV. She was breathing heavily so he heard her, and when he spotted the hammer in her hand his face darkened.

“Not this again,” he grumbled. “Are you really going to hit me with that?” He stood, so tall and muscular and _big_.

Ymir glared at him. She didn’t say a word—had nothing left to say to this fucker. She didn’t care if she ended up dead by the end of the day, so long as she took him with her.

He stared at her wearily despite his taunting, and Ymir saw him tense up, ready to dive for the weapon. When someone started to bang loudly on the door, her father’s head snapped up towards the sound and she made her move.

She swung the hammer with all of her might and hit him with a dull thud in the face. He shouted and went down, but he managed to roll away as she went to hit him again. The hammer cracked the wooden floor and got stuck, giving him the opportunity to throw his body into hers. Her every injury screamed when they hit the floor and his fist cracked against her face again. Hot blood started to slide across her face from her brow, but she was fuelled by her hatred of him and her anger, so she somehow managed to throw him off of her. He crashed against the wall-unit and sent the TV shattering to the ground.

“You fucking bitch!” he roared at her.

Ymir stood and bolted for the kitchen, her father hot on her heels. She reached for the drying rack where the big steak knife sat, but her father managed to grab her shirt and threw her back. She slammed into the table and toppled over with it. He tried to grab her again, but she got up quickly and fled from the kitchen, feet pounding down the hallway.

Everything happened so quickly. He got hold of her and sank his knee into her side, but she threw him off and ran into his bedroom. She managed to close the door just enough, but he snuck his arm in and prevented her from closing it.

“I’m going to kill you,” he snarled through the open slit. “You won’t even have a face when I’m done with you.”

Ymir swallowed thickly. She was in pain and winded and her heart was racing with terror and adrenalin, but there was still the anger giving her courage. Her eyes darted around the room for something, _anything_ , and then she spotted a bottle of vodka on his bedside table. She gritted her teeth.

“I’ve wanted to say this for a long time,” she shouted at him. It was taking every ounce of her strength to keep the door closed, but she was weakening fast. This would be the end. “But fuck you, you stupid fucking piece of shit!”

Her father roared and shoved hard against the door. Ymir stumbled forward and nearly tripped, but managed to twist enough to grab for the bottle. Her fingers _just_ missed and it tumbled to the floor instead. She landed hard on her back, and then her father was on top of her and his hands went around her throat. Half of his face was drenched in blood from the hit he had taken, and Ymir laughed at him for it.

“Fuck. You,” she choked out.

His thumb dug into her skin and she winced in pain, kicking her feet underneath him. She spat at his face and grinned smugly when her saliva hit him in the cheek and slid down his jaw. He recoiled because of it and his grip loosened. She pushed back against his hand, fearing her neck would snap, and reached out for the bottle that rested so near.

“You’re so unbelievable,” he growled at her. He lifted her and then slammed her head down on the floor. Ymir blacked out for a second, but came back immediately. She could feel the coolness of the bottle. “I’m going to enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. You should have done the work for me, like I hoped you would.” He bared his teeth and his face contorted in pure evil glee.

Ymir’s fingers closed around the bottle. Despite the pounding in her head and the pain in her throat, she grinned up at him. Her father frowned at her, unnerved by the smile. “My life was never yours,” she sputtered, and then she smashed the bottle into his head and he dropped next to her.

Her vision turned blurry and she almost couldn’t breathe. Had he crushed her oesophagus? With every puff of air there was pain, and every beat of her heart, more pain. She thought she heard sirens, but that couldn’t be. She was hallucinating from the lack of oxygen.

Hands touched her and she panicked, trying to pull away, but then a familiar voice spoke and she relaxed immediately, because it wasn’t her father. Thank god, it wasn’t her father. It was Historia. Sweet, beautiful Historia. Infuriating, arrogant, bitchy Historia. But it was her, and she was speaking in a rush and Ymir couldn’t hear her. She idly noted she was now cradled in Historia’s arms, and warm tears plopped against her burnt face. Damn, she probably looked so ugly and broken. Why was Historia crying? Why did she look so upset?

Ymir managed to smile. She lifted her hand and caressed Historia’s soft cheek. How was it possible to be so perfect and imperfect at the same time? Ymir didn’t deserve her, and she never would, but if given the chance she really wanted to try.

Historia gently took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Ymir,” she said, and Ymir could finally register her words. “I’m so sorry, Ymir.”

Ymir furrowed her brows. “No…” she rasped. “Don’t be… sorry…”

Historia sniffed heavily. “Ymir, I… I do care about you. I think…” Fresh tears spilled out of her eyes. Ymir immediately scooted closer to press her face against Historia, anything to comfort her. “I think I love you.”

The words warmed Ymir. She laughed softly, painfully, shocked. “How…?” She closed her hand around Historia’s and held it tight. “I…”

Before she could finish her sentence, she lost consciousness.


	10. Wrote the book on pain, somehow I’m still here to explain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sound of Madness – Shinedown

After Mr Ackerman knocked, they heard a shout from inside and the sounds of a struggle. He immediately told Historia to call the police, which she did without hesitation. While she explained over the phone he slammed into the door over and over. When she was done, she joined him and together they took the door down. Everything had gone silent and Historia would never feel that amount of fear again in her life.

When they found them in the master bedroom, she really thought Ymir was dead. She was beaten beyond recognition, covered in blood and marks and cuts, but she was smiling as she lay on the floor. Her father was slumped beside her, blood leaking from his head.

Historia didn’t even think about it. She rushed to Ymir and pulled her close and immediately started to sob in relief when Ymir’s eyes blinked open and looked up at her. She cried and she made stupid confessions, and when Ymir’s eyes fluttered closed again, she cried some more.

Police rushed the scene quickly. Mr Ackerman explained the situation and Mr Fritz was taken out on a gurney, but handcuffed. He was still alive but had suffered head trauma—Historia was so proud of Ymir.

Ymir had to be rushed to the hospital as well. Everything after that felt like a blur. Ymir was treated and given a private room—from the insistence of Historia, because she could afford it. Her leg was broken and she had suffered severe trauma all over her body, but luckily with a lot of rest and therapy, she would heal.

Ymir seemed to sleep for days on end. On top of the physical injuries, she was incredibly gaunt from no food. So many people filed in and out, police and doctors and nurses, and Historia sat stubbornly at Ymir’s bedside. She refused to go to school and with Mr Ackerman’s explanation, their principal allowed it. But, two weeks of missing school was too much, and eventually she needed to go.

She told Hitch and Mina everything. She told them that she loved Ymir, and broke down in the cafeteria where everyone could see. Hitch and Mina both held her while she cried, and then after school they went to the hospital with her.

Weeks later, Ymir was doing a lot better. She was still in the hospital but due to be released, and Historia carried with her a big meal from Burger King. She didn’t care if the nurses wanted to fight her, it was Ymir’s favourite and she was hungry _all the time_.

She entered Ymir’s room with a big grin and loved the way Ymir’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Here,” she said, handing the bag over. “Remember to chew.”

Ymir rolled her eyes. The burns on her face had healed nicely, but they still weren’t gone. Luckily they weren’t that bad but some areas would probably scar. Historia knew that Ymir had many other scars all over her body.

“God, you’re my favourite person,” Ymir groaned. She made quick work of the food and Historia sat watching her. When she was done, she burped ungracefully and then collapsed back. She winced slightly. “Everything still hurts,” she confessed sadly.

Historia frowned. “It will. But you’ll be okay, Ymir. You’re the strongest person I know.” She sat forward and took Ymir’s hand in hers. She intertwined their fingers.

For a long time, they remained silent. Historia could tell that there was something Ymir wanted to tell her, though. Ever since she had woken and been coherent enough, there were heavy words behind her eyes. Historia was terrified that Ymir was going to tell her to leave, so she avoided the conversation for as long as she could. She didn’t even know if Ymir remembered what she had said, when she confessed that she loved her.

“Historia…”

She pulled her hand away, sucking in a breath. “We need to finally talk then, huh?”

Ymir looked at her. “Yeah, we do.”

“Okay.”

“When I get out of here, Levi has agreed to look after me. I… have no other family. I’m already 18, so I agreed to it.”

Historia brightened. “Oh! That’s awesome. Mr Ackerman really cares about you.”

Ymir smiled softly. “Yeah, he’s awesome. But, we’re actually going to go stay with his mother. She knows how to handle someone with my issues. I, uh… Historia.” She sighed heavily. Historia’s stomach dropped. This was it. “It’s in Quinta. Levi has applied for a job that side, and I’ll be moving with him. I’m moving away, Historia.”

Tears filled Historia’s eyes, but she refused to let herself cry. “I’m happy for you. I’m sure it’ll be best for you to get away from here and all the bad memories.”

Ymir nodded. “It’s not just that. Historia, I’m in love with you.”

Historia’s chest tightened and she looked at Ymir, shocked. “What?”

Ymir reached out to caress her cheek. “Of course I am, dummy. In the last week before you found me, you were all I thought about. You were the one thing that kept me from ending my suffering. I feel such strong emotions for you.” Her smile dropped away. “And that’s exactly why I want to leave. I’m not good for you.”

Historia stood, the chair scraping loudly behind her. “Don’t say that!”

“The way I am now, it’s true. I’m broken, Historia. I’m so broken that it takes so much to keep myself in one piece. Levi’s mother is a therapist. She helps people with PTSD, especially kids that come from homes like mine. I want to get better. I want to work on getting over this. I can’t… I can’t be here, with you, if I want that.”

The words hurt more than anything, but Historia knew there was truth in them. “I…” Her tears overflowed and swept down her cheeks. “That’s so damn mature of you, Ymir.”

Ymir was crying too. She laughed and pulled Historia to her, pressing their foreheads together. “You need help too,” she told her sternly. “You need to work out your issues from what happened with your mother. Your trauma is holding you back. Promise me, Historia. That’s my one selfish wish—that you’ll get help.”

Historia nodded and sniffed. Ymir cupped her face and then they kissed, and it was a kiss filled with bitter sweetness and the salty tang of their tears.  Even though it hurt, she knew it was the right thing to do.

Everything was so new for her—admitting that she cared, showing people that she did and actually letting people in. Kindness was easy for her now, even though a part of it made her uneasy, because kindness was so easy to take advantage of. But she was trying. She was trying so hard.

“I promise,” she told Ymir. “But you make the same promise.”

“Deal.” They kissed once more to seal it. “And if we ever meet again, Historia, then I’m going to do everything I can to make you mine.”

“Promise?”

“With every heart beat.”

A nurse came in to let Ymir know Mr Ackerman was there to pick her up. They broke apart and wiped their tears off, and Historia helped Ymir get dressed. When they left the hospital and found Mr Ackerman standing by his car, Historia wanted to cry all over again.

“I picked up your few belongings from your old house,” Mr Ackerman told her. He accepted the small bag of clothes Ymir gave him and went to put them in his car.

“Thanks,” Ymir told him. She turned to Historia, and even though her eyes were glossy, she was smiling. “I’m going to miss the shit out of you, you know.”

Historia nodded. Her lower lip trembled. “Don’t you dare forget about me.”

“I won’t ever.”

“And make something amazing of yourself.”

“I will. Don’t treat people like shit anymore, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“Good.”

Ymir moved closer on her crutches, and then she pressed a soft, tender kiss against Historia’s forehead. “I love you, Historia Reiss.” She pulled away. “I wish I had said so sooner.”

Historia sucked in a heavy breath. “I love you too, Ymir Fritz. You insufferable, incredible jackass.”

Ymir gave her a crooked grin, and then she got into the car and Historia watched them go. She watched as her heart drove away into the horizon, to heal and grow and be better, stronger.

Even though it hurt _so much_ , Historia was grateful. She needed to work hard on herself now, to be better and nicer. Ymir had given that to her, and in exchange, Ymir would always have her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it for FMLYHM, but not the end of the story! I have written the first chapter of Touch Me Like You Love Me, the sequel set 7 years later. I unfortunately wasn't able to finish writing TMLYLM before FMLYHM ended, and I'm still debating if I should post the first chap this coming Saturday and then try and keep up with writing. The pressure might be too much, or the pressure will help. I don't know yet. But, thank you so much for reading this dark, angsty mess! Your comments and thoughts are always welcomed. I've also finished the first chapter of Kiss Me Like You Miss Me, which is a Mikannie side story happening at the same time as TMLYLM. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay loved. See you next update <3


End file.
